CIHM 
Microfiche 
Series 
(Monographs) 


ICMH 

Collection  de 
microfiches 
(monographles) 


Canadian  Institut*  for  Hiatorical  MIeroraproduction*  /  Institut  Canadian  da  microraproductiona  hiatoriquaa 


1995 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes  /  Notes  technique  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best  original 
copy  available  (or  filming.  Features  of  this  copy  which 
may  be  bibllographlcally  unique,  which  may  alter  any  of 
the  images  in  the  reproduction,  or  which  may 
significantly  change  the  usual  method  of  filming  are 
checked  below. 


0 


Coloured  covers  / 
Couverture  de  couleur 


[  '~\     Cavers  damaged  / 

' — '      Couverture  endommagte 

I     I     Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaur^  et/ou  pelllcuiee 

I     I     Cover  title  missing /Le  litre  de  couverture  manque 

I     I     Coloured  maps  /  Cartes  gtegraphlques  en  couleur 

[/]     Coloured  ink  (l.e.  other  than  t)lue  or  black)/ 

Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 

I     I      Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations  / 
Planches  et/ou  Illustrations  en  couleur 

I     I      Bound  with  other  material  / 

Roll*  avec  d'autres  documents 

I     I      Only  editton  available  / 
' — '     Seule  edition  disponlbie 

[J]      Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
^^'-'      along  interior  margin  /  La  rellure  serrSe  peut 

causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la  aistorston  le  long  de 

la  marge  int^rieure. 

I  I  Blank  leaves  added  during  restoratkins  may  appear 
within  the  text.  Wtienever  possible,  these  have 
been  omitled  from  filming  /  II  se  peut  que  certaines 
pages  blanches  ajouttes  tors  d'une  restauration 
appaiaissent  dans  le  texte,  mais,  kxsque  cela  etait 
possible,  ces  pages  n'ont  pas  M  fllmtes. 


L'Instltut  a  microfilm*  le  meilleur  examplaire  qu'il  lui  a 
6te  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details  de  cet  exem- 
plaire  qui  sont  peut-Stre  uniques  du  point  de  vue  bibli- 
ographique,  qui  peuvent  rrradlfier  une  image  reproduite, 
ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une  modifications  dans  la  meth- 
ode  normale  de  filmage  sont  Indlqu6s  cl-dessous. 

I     I      Coloured  pages/ Pages  de  couleur 

I     I     Pages  damaged/ Pages  endommag*es 

rj]     Pages  restored  and/or  laminated  / 

—  Pages  restaur^s  et/ou  pelllculAes 

[71     Pages  discotoured,  stained  or  foxed  / 
'^'— '     Pages  decolofees,  tachettes  ou  piquees 

I     I     Pages  detached  /  Pages  d«tach«es 

ryi     Showthrough/ Transparence 

r7|      Quality  of  print  varies  / 

' — '      Quality  In^gale  oe  i'impresston 

f    I     Includes  supplementary  material  / 

—  Comprend  du  materiel  supptementaire 

I     I      Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 

—  slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image  /  Les  pages 
totalement  ou  partlellement  obscurcies  par  un 
feuillet  d'enata,  une  pelure,  etc.,  ont  ete  fllmees 
^  nouveau  de  fa^on  k  obtenir  la  mellleure 
image  possible. 

I  I  Opposing  pages  with  varying  colouration  or 
dlscolourations  are  filmed  twice  to  ensure  the 
best  possible  Image  /  Les  pages  s'opposant 
ayant  des  colorations  variables  ou  des  decol- 
oratkjns  sont  fllmees  deux  fols  afin  d'obtenir  la 
meilleur  Image  possible. 


D 


Addtk)nal  comments  / 
Commentajres  suppiementaires: 


Thit  inm  is  fihnad  at  th«  rtduetion  rnio  ehackld  bilow/ 

C«  docunwnt  nt  filmt  lu  au«  dt  rMuction  imliqui  ci-dntous. 

lox  ux  lax 

I — I — I — r~i — I — I — I — I— T — I — r 


22X 


/ 


24X 


Th«  copy  filmed  h«r«  hat  bMn  raproduead  thanKi 
to  tha  ganarosity  of: 


L'axamplaira  fllmi  fut  raprodult  grica  k  la 
gtntroait*  da: 


Ottawa  Public  Library 


BiMlotMqiM  puMiqua  d'Ottawa 


Tlia  iiTvaf*  appaaring  hara  ara  tha  baat  quality 
pottibia  eontidarlng  tha  condition  and  laglbillty 
of  tha  original  copy  and  In  kaaplng  with  tha 
Aiming  contract  tpadfleatlont. 


Original  copiaa  in  printad  papar  eovats  ara  fllmad 
baglnning  with  tha  front  covar  and  anding  on 
tha  last  paga  with  a  printad  or  illuatratad  Impraa- 
tion.  or  tha  back  covar  whan  appropriata.  All 
othar  original  eoplaa  ara  fllmad  baglnning  on  tha 
firat  paga  with  a  printad  or  illuatratad  Impraa- 
(lon,  and  anding  un  tha  laat  paga  with  a  printad 
or  illuatratad  impraaalon. 


Tha  laat  racordad  frama  on  aach  mieroflcha 
shall  contain  tha  symbol  ^^  (moaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  tha  symbol  V  Imaaning  "END"), 
whichavar  appliaa. 


Las  imagaa  suivantas  ont  M  raproduitas  avac  la 
plus  grand  soin.  compta  tanu  da  la  condition  at 
da  la  nattat«  da  l'axamplaira  film*,  at  an 
conformM  avac  las  conditions  du  contrat  da 
filmaga. 

Laa  axamplairas  originaux  dont  la  couvartura  an 
paplar  aat  imprimta  sont  filmta  tn  commancant 
par  la  pramlar  plat  at  an  tarminant  soit  par  la 
darnitra  paga  qui  comporta  una  amprainta 
d'Impraasion  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  la  sacond 
plat,  salon  la  eas.  Tous  laa  autraa  axamplairas 
originaux  sont  filmit  an  commandant  par  la 
pramitra  paga  qui  comporta  una  amprainta 
d'Impraasion  ou  d'iilusavtion  at  an  tarminant  par 
la  darnitra  paga  qui  comporta  una  talla 
amprainta. 

Un  daa  symboiaa  suivanta  apparattra  sur  la 
darnitra  Imaga  da  chaqua  mieroflcha.  salon  la 
cas:  la  symbols  ^»>  signlfia  "A  SUIVRE",  la 
symbola  ▼  signlfia  "FIN  ". 


Mapa,  piatas.  charta.  ate  may  ba  fllmad  at 
diffarant  rsduction  ratioa.  Thoaa  too  larga  to  ba 
antiraly  inclutiad  in  ona  axposura  ara  fllmad 
baglnning  in  tha  uppar  laft  hand  comar,  laft  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  framaa  aa 
raqulrad.  Tha  following  diagrams  illustrata  tha 
mathod: 


Laa  cartas,  planchas.  tablsaux.  ate.  pauvdht  itra 
filmta  1  daa  taux  da  rMuction  difftrsnts. 
Lorsqua  la  documant  ast  trap  grand  pour  ttra 
raprodult  an  un  saul  clicht.  il  aat  filmi  1  partir 
da  I'angia  supAriaur  gaucha.  da  gaucha  A  droita, 
at  da  haut  an  bas,  an  pronant  ia  nombra 
d'imagsa  ntcaasaira.  Laa  diagrammas  suivanta 
llluatrant  la  mtthoda. 


1 

2 

3 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

-it*oecn  •HowTioN  mr  chmt 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHABI  N,,  !) 


J  ^IPPUECjyMGE 

^P  IES3   Eait   Main   Stmt 

■^B  Rocrmt^f,   n,.   York        uMo       ,ie. 

^E  (716)   *a2  -  OMO  -  P^alt  ^^ 

^3  (716)   288-5989  -  Fo, 


THE  RED  INN 
OF  SAINT  LYPHAR. 


THE  RED  INN 
OF  SAINT  LYPHAR. 


By  anna  T.   SADLIER. 

unm  Of 


nw  nM,  cuninATi,  aoowe: 

BBNZIOBR    BROTHBRS, 
Pinuan*  or  aBannl  MAOum 


ConuoHT,  1904,  lY  BiNiiau  Bxotrbu 


CONTENTS. 


CHAFTtn   I. 


Citmjr  puKum  a  IimoDnoD 


CHAFTBR   II. 
MAum  OoimM  WITH  RicBAio  DopLunn 


U 


CHAFTBR   III. 
A  8pT  AmAMB  IB  TBS  NKMRBOBHOOD  or  THK  RXD  IrV  . 


CHAFTBR   IV. 


Thi  AnMT  or  RttMAMo  DvrxMaaa  . 


CHAFTBR   V. 


Is  TBI  PAun  0*  tbi  Rd  Ihh  . 


CHAFTBR   VI, 


A  NnHT  or  BosmB  at  the  Craixau 


T5 


CHAFTBR   VII. 


Iff  nn  Wtnmat  or  thb  Clock  Town 


CHAFTBR   VIII. 
TnAt  or  Counr  OAnoir  ob  la  Rochi  ANosi 


IM 


CHAFTBR    IX. 
OiTizBr  P^Dfnm  mbtu  ah  Old  Aoqvaihtaitob 


\75«kt\ 


u* 


cnyrenTs. 

OHAPTBS  X. 

In  THS  RlTOLVnoNABT  TUMBKIL 1» 

CHAPTER  XI. 
TB«  CATUr  IT  TBI  8U j^ 

CHAPTBR   XII. 
The  Rm  Iini  Oiioi  Moat jU 


THE  RED  INN  OF  SAINT  LYPHAR. 


CHAPTEB  I. 


i 


OmZEK  PBBMION  IS  INTHODtJOED. 

The  Bevolution,  which  in  the  closing  years  of  the  eighteenth 
century  shook  France  from  end  to  end,  left  La  Vendfe  and  the 
whole  of  Brittany  for  a  considerable  time  undisturbed.  So 
long,  in  fact,  as  the  great  revolt  was  a  purely  political  one,  it  had 
but  little  effect  upon  that  primitive  population.  Their  nobles 
were,  for  the  most  part,  free  from  the  crimes  and  follies  which 
had  made  their  order  odious  in  other  parts  of  the  kingdom.  The 
clergy,  pious  and  devoted,  were  the  fathers  of  the  people,  while 
the  people,  sincerely  religious,  practised  loyalty  to  the  State  as 
they  practised  other  Christian  duties. 

The  terrible  law  of  1790,  declaring  that  each  priest  must  take 
an  oath  acknowledging  that  he  held  his  jurisdiction  entirely  from 
the  State,  was  the  torch  which  set  La  Vendte  on  fire.  The  Breton 
clergy  to  a  man  refused  the  oath,  the  nobles  unanimously  op- 
posed it,  and  the  peasantry,  stirred  to  its  depths,  began  to  think 
seriously  of  stemming  the  torrent  of  the  Bevolution  and  taking 
the  field  against  those  who  oppressed  the  Church.  Constitutional 
priests  were  put  in  place  of  the  old  pastors,  who  wandered  in 
the  marshes  or  sought  shelter  in  the  thick  brush  of  the  Socage, 
where  their  people  still  came  to  them  for  ministration.  Many  ot 
7 


«  OmzEtl   PREMION  la   l«TRODUOED. 

them  perished  on  the  guillotine,  in  the  »atere  of  the  Loire  or 
m  the  quarries,  and  the  people  row  in  their  might  to  avenge 
them.  ^ 

In  the  dismal  year  of  1793,  when  the  nights  were  already 
growing  longer  and  darker,  a  number  of  men  were  aswimbled 
according  to  custom,  in  the  parlor  of  the  Red  Inn.    Their  talk 
at  fl-st  was  merely  of  the  past.     Dumartin,  the  innkeeper    de- 
scribed at  length  the  merry  days  of  old,  the  fotos  in  the  park  of 
the  chateau,  where  their  feudal  lord,  the  Marquis  de  la  Roche 
Andr«,  entertained  the  whole  population  of  Saint  Lvphar  and  of 
some  of  the  adjoining  parishes  as  well.  The  Marquis  himself  stood 
apart  in  conversation  with  some  of  the  notables  of  the  village 
but  Momiieur  le  Cur«  was  everywhere,  encouraging  the  sports,' 
cheenng  on  the  players,  and  knocking  at  the  great  door  of  the 
chai»au  kitchen  to  bid  those  within  bring  out  a  greater  abundance 
of  good  cheer.  "  Monsieur  le  Cur«."  There  was  a  stem  and  awful 
silence  at  the  name,  and  the  furrowed  cheeks  of  some  of  the 
older  men  were  moistened  with  the  tears  they  could  not  reprew 
while  the  faces  of  their  juniors  grew  stem  and  dark.     For  the 
good  pastor  of  Saint  Lyphar  had  been  as  a  father  to  his  people 
and  now,  after  lying  for  many  months  in  the  prison  at  Nantes' 
because  he  would  not  take  the  oath  of  infamy  required  by  the 
Government,  a  tragic  tale  had  reached  the  village.     The  be- 
loved  old  man  had  perished  in  one  of  those  terrible  noyade,   or 
drownings,  by  which  the  inhuman  monster.  Carrier,  disposed 
of  whole  cargoes  of  priests  and  aristocrats.    The  Cur«  had  died 
while  trying  to  save  a  brother  priest,  «no  had  been  fastened 
to  him  with  bonds,  after  the  fashion  of  the  revolutionary  tri- 
bunals.   His  successor,  a  constitutional  priest  who  had  been  sent 
from  Paris  to  Saint  Lyphar,  had  only  been  installed  by  the  aid  of 
.u  hundred  men  and  four  pieces  of  artillery,  and  was  left  wittont 


OITntK   PRIMION  IS   ISTRODVOED.  « 

fire  to  light  his  tapers  and  without  a  solitary  worshiper  at  the 
desecrated  altars.  For  the  people  of  Saint  Lyphcr  preferred  to 
steal  away  to  hear  Mass  by  an  exiled  priest  who  was  hiding  in 
the  marshes  near  Saint  Hilaire  de  Rioz. 

"  My  friends,"  said  a  thin,  dark  man,  speaking  suddenly  with 
curiously  repressed  fire  and  passion  in  his  voice,  "  we,  the  people 
of  Saint  Lyphar,  shall  remember  our  beloved  pastor.  The  ex- 
ample of  Nicholas  Tieo  shall  be  our  guide." 

"Nicholas  Tiec?"  inquired  a  stranger,  who  had  hitherto  sat 
silent  by  the  fire. 

"Tee;  Nicholas  Tiec."  cried  a  chorus  of  stern  voices,  "we 
shall  remember." 

"But  what  did  he  do,  this  Nicholas?"  again  inquired  the 
stranger. 

"  He  did  this,"  said  the  dark  man  quietly.  "  When  the  Marat 
corps  came  to  expel  our  Our«,  and  put  his  infamous  successor 
in  his  place,  Nicholas  seized  a  pitchfork  and  opposed  them 
single  handed.  The  officer  in  command  cried  out  to  him  to 
yield.    'First,  yield  me  my  God!'  answered  Nicholas." 

"And  then?"  questioned  the  stranger. 

"Then  Nicholas  fell  with  tweuty-two  wounds  in  him.  But 
his  spirit  lives.    It  is  ours,  my  friends.    It  is  a  heritage." 

The  stranger  turned  back  to  the  fire,  the  sneering  smile 
about  his  lips  contradicted  by  the  lowering  scowl  upon  his 
brow. 

"  Nor  was  Nicholas  the  only  one,"  remarked  the  innkeeper, 
"  for  there  was  Stanislas  Foret." 

"Aye,  there  was  Stanislas  Foret,"  cried  the  peasants,  as 
though  they  were  bein.  aroused  hy  a  battle  cry. 

"  And  may  I  he  informed  who  is  Stanislas  Foret?  "  asked  the 
straiiger  again. 


CITIZEN    PRBUWJI   18   IXTRODVCBD. 


"  You  may,  sir ! "  cried  the  dark  man,  turning  no  favorable 
eye  upon  the  questioner.  "  He  was  the  peasant  of  this  parish 
who  to  our  honor,  sir — mark  you,  to  our  honor — permitted  those 
cursed  republicans  to  consume  his  hand  with  fire  rather  than 
use  it  to  bum  his  Catechism,  and  it  is  his  good  wife,  Katherine, 
who  stood  up  and  cried  out  to  him :  '  Well  done,  Stanislas,  it  is 
for  the  good  God,  and  He  will  reward  you ' " 

"  My  friends,  my  very  dear  friends,"  began  the  stranger, 
beaming  upon  the  assembly,  with  well  feigned  cordiality,  "  will 
yor  permit  me  one  observation  ?  " 

"  A  dozen,  sir,  provided  they  be  of  the  right  sort,"  answered 
the  dark  man,  curtly.  Whereupon  the  stranger  gave  the  speaker 
a  moment's  particular  attention  before  he  resumed. 

"  It  is  simply  that  you  are  far  behind  the  times  here  in  this 
lonely  district  of  yours  beside  the  Loire.  You  have  not  yet 
awakened  to  the  evils  of  priestly  tyranny,  of  superstition." 

"Silence,  sir,"  cried  Dumartin,  the  innkeeper.  "I  allow 
none  within  my  house  to  insult  our  clergy  and  our  faith.  They 
are  sacred." 

"Bravo,  Dumartin!"  cried  the  dark  man,  his  exclamation 
being  insta  tly  echoed  by  the  whole  assembly.  "  And  you,  sir, 
stranger  as  you  are  in  our  midst,  be  more  guarded,  I  warn  you, 
in  your  talk,  or  the  sacred  rights  of  hospitality  may  not  always 
protect  you." 

"Are  you  so  certain,  Richard  Duplessis,  that  I  am  a  stranger?" 
cried  the  man  addressed,  arising  from  his  seat  near  the  fire  to 
confront  the  other,  who  had  likewise  arisen. 

"What,  you  know  me?"  cried  Duplessis  in  surprise;  "and 
yet  as  to  your  being  a  stranger,  there  is  no  doubt  about  that.  I  was 
one  of  those  who,  on  Mo  iday,  a  fortnight  since,  was  summoned 
to  yonder  hill  first  by  the  barking  of  P4re  Michel's  dog,  and  next 


I 


OtTllBD   PREMIOH   18   DITRODVCtD.  n 

bj  criee  for  help.  Dumartin  here,  and  I,  with  Claude  Pilon  from 
the  blacksmith's,  reached  the  brow  of  the  hill  to  see  a  vehicle 
overturned,  with  you  underneath,  and  you  told  us,  when  you 
were  able  to  explain,  that  you  were  from  Nantes,  where  you  had 
lately  arrived  from  Paris." 

The  stranger  nodded  as  if  in  consent,  and  Duplesais  con- 
tiiiUed. 

"Yes,  you  have  been  at  the  Capital,  and  can  tell  of  the 
sittings  of  the  States-General,  the  speeches  of  Mirabcau,  the 
storming  of  the  Bastile,  the  eicitement  of  the  populace,  and  a 
thousand  things  which  have  little  to  do  with  our  once  tranquil 
La  Vendfe." 

"  But  perchance  I  can  tell  you  likewise,"  said  the  other,  "  of 
summer  mornings  upon  the  Marais,  where  Richard  Duplessis 
and  a  barefooted  lad,  who  was  called  Morin-Premion,  leaped 
the  dikes  for  very  love  of  mischief  or  drove  the  flat-bottomed 
pnnts  with  long  poles  through  the  marshy  waters." 
"  Morin-Premion ! "  cried  Duplessis  in  amazement. 
"  And  perhaps  I  can  tell  how  they  forced  their  way  to  the 
dense  brushwood  of  the  Socage,  or  rambled  over  waste  lands 
covered  with  broom  and  furie  and  of  quick-set  hedges,  and  of 
OMarts  stuck  fast  in  yellow  clay,  and  of  the  mud-huts  of  the 
fishers,  and  of  stolen  visits  to  the  salt  smugglers  in  the  forest  of 
Concise,  and  of  a  thousand  things  which  have  to  do  with  this  once 
tranquil  La  Vendue." 

He  concluded  his  discourse  by  repeating  the  words  of  Du- 
plessis in  a  tone  of  slight  mockery. 

"  So  now,  Duplessis,  your  hand,  for  old  comradeship ! " 
Duplessis  folded  his  arms  upon  his  breast 
"Yon  would  not  have  refused  it  once,"  said  Prsmion,  in  a 
tone  which  was  almost  suppliant,  while  his  sinister  face  took  on 


It 


OITtttrS   PRBMIOV    IB    IHTKODVCED 


■  winning  expreuion,  which  had  already  gained  him  more  than 
one  rait  in  the  law  courta  of  PariB. 

"  No;  that  I  would  not  I "  said  Dnplessis,  asaenting  to  the  last 
remark ; "  but  times  change,  and  men  with  them,  and  I  must  know 
to  what  work  has  been  put  the  hand  which  I  grasp  in  friend- 
ship." 

"Mostly  to  law  papers,  my  friend,"  said  Premion,  with  a 
shrug  of  the  shoulders,  "  though  of  late,  in  troth,  it  has  been, 
perchance,  more  sternly  employed.  But  what  matters  that,  or 
why  should  you  presume  to  think  ill  of  the  work  I  have  been 
doing?" 

"If  it  matches  the  words  I  heard  from  your  lips,"  said 
Duplessis  sturdily,  "  it  is  not  work  which  entitles  you  to  grasp 
my  hand  in  friendship.  No,  nor  the  hand  of  any  honest  Breton, 
Christian,  and  Catholic !  " 

Premion's  brow  grew  dark  with  a  scowl  so  lowering  that  it 
caused  some  timid  ones,  of  which  there  were  not  many  in  the  ranks 
of  the  Breton  peasantry,  to  fall  back. 

"Have  a  care,  Duplessis,"  the  man  cried  in  a  low  tone  of 
concentrated  rage.  "  Your  late  doings  are  known  at  Nantes,  and 
the  mornings  on  the  marshes  will  aTail  you  little,  nor  even  the 
day  you  drew  me  from  the  marsh  yonder,  if  you  meet  with  scorn 
the  friendly  advances  of  a  patriot  and  of  a  true  man." 

"  Troe  to  what  ?  "  inquired  Duplessis,  his  honest  eyes  search- 
ing the  countenance  of  the  lawyer  and  his  lips  obstinately 
compressed.  "  To  your  God,  to  the  traditions  of  your  race,  to 
your  pastors,  to  your  faith  ?  " 

"True  to  the  nation,  to  humanity,  and  its  sacred  rights," 

cried  Premion,  raising  his  voice,  "  to  liberty,  equality,  fraternity," 

"  Keep  those  ill-omened  words  for  the  wine-shops  of  Paris  I " 

commanded  Hichard  so  sternly  that  the  other  quailed  somewhat 


OITUMH   PRMMION   IB   IXTRODVCBD. 


1» 


before  him.  "  We  have  learned  what  true  humanity  and  fraternity 
arc  from  the  lip«  of  our  priests,  God  bless  them." 

"  Aye,  God  bleee  them !  "  echoed  the  assembly. 

"  And  as  to  liberty,"  went  on  Ouplcssis,  "  the  peasants  of 
La  Vendfe  have  their  share.  We  are  free  men  all,  and  free 
we  shall  remain,  mark  you,  Fremion,  free  to  serve  our  God,  un- 
hindered, free  to  choose  our  pastors,  and  free  to  give  our  Urea 
for  our  religion  and  our  King ! " 

"  Bravo !  Hurrah  I "  criei'  the  Vendeans  assembled,  as  with 
one  voice,  "  Long  live  the  Church,  the  Pope,  the  priests,  long  live 
the  King  and  our  gracious  lady,  the  Queen  I "  The  stranger  stood 
scowling  upon  them  all,  his  saturnine  face  growing  momentarily 
more  evil  in  expression.  Suddenly  there  was  a  change,  as  though 
he  had  drawn  a  mask  over  its  darkness. 

"  This  is  but  a  sorry  welcome  for  an  old  friend,  Dupleasia," 
he  cried,  genially ;  "  but  let  that  pass.  The  day  may  come  when 
you  would  right  willingly  clasp  my  hand.  Meantime,  good 
Citizen  Dumartin,  bring  out  your  best  wine.  The  company  shall 
drink  at  my  expense.  I,  Morin-Premion,  the  Vendean,  have 
gone  to  Paris,  and  there  lined  my  pockets  by  my  own  wit  and 
industry.    Eetuming,  shall  I  not  make  merry  with  my  friends?  " 

There  was  still  some  hesitation  on  the  part  of  the  company, 
but  the  man's  manner  was  so  genial,  his  countenance  so  beaming, 
and  his  invitation  to  drink  80  cordial,  that  all  were  presently 
disarmed,  save  Duplessis,  who,  declining  with  a  gesture  the  wine 
which  Dumartin  had  brought  forth,  smoked  on  in  silence.  None 
observed  the  menacing  glance  which  Morin-Premion  from  time 
to  time  threw  at  him.  That  worthy,  being  now  left  in  possession 
of  the  field,  set  himself  to  win  more  and  more  the  good  graces 
of  the  company.  He  no  longer  openly  attacked  the  clergy,  the 
nobles,  or  the  King.    But  he  continued  by  gesture  and  innuendo 


14 


OmiEK   PHEMIOH   IS   lUTHODVOaD. 


to  awiken  in  the  minda  of  the  younger  men,  at  letit,  in  entirely 
new  tnin  of  thought.  They  heard  good  faith  and  honeity  t«- 
ferred  to  with  a  ineer;  religion  a<  an  excellent  ufegiurd  for 
feminine  levity  or  a  corrective  for  unruly  children;  new  and 
dazzling  opinions,  aocial  and  political,  were  clothed  in  language 
calculated  to  hide  their  dangerous  significance. 

"  Speaking  of  taies,  my  friend*,"  said  Premion,  in  the  smooth, 
fluent  tones  of  the  lawyer,  "is  not  the  corvU,  for  example,  an 
anachronism  in  this  year  of  1793?  'Tis  a  droll  custom,  is  it  not, 
my  friends,  when  one  thinks  of  it,  that  we,  the  commonalty,  should 
mend  their  roads  and  keep  their  bridges  safe  and  see  to  the 
foundations  of  their  castles,  so  that  our  noble  lords  may  drive 
upon  easy  roads  in  gay  coaches,  ind  dwell  securely  in  castles,  the 
threshold  of  which  we  may  not  cross?  Eh,  Citizen  Duplessis, 
what  think  you  of  the  corvfet" 

"What  think  I  of  the  sky  overhead?"  answered  Duplessis, 
suddenly  raising  his  penetrating  dark  eyes  to  the  speaker's  face. 
"  There  it  is,  and  there  it  remains." 

"You  beUeve,  then,  that  the  eorv(»  shall  remain,  that  in- 
tolerable burden,"  cried  the  lawyer,  "and  that  our  children's 
children  shall  bow  their  backs  to  the  breaking  of  stone  and  the 
making  of  roads?" 

"  Our  children's  children  shall,  we  hope,  bend  their  necks  to 
the  yoke   of  the   Gospel,"   said   Duplesais,  "which   commands 
obedience  to  temporal  authority." 
Premion  laughed. 

"You  made  a  mistake,  Duplessis,"  he  said,  "in  not  having 
taken  orders.    What  a  preacher  you  would  have  been ! " 
Dupleeais  flushed,  but  made  no  reply. 
"In  truth,"  went  on  the  lawyer,  "I  am  merely  touching 
these  matters  in  a  light  and  playful  way.    I  shall  never  break 


OlTlZtX   PRUMtOH   /«   IttTROOC    ID. 


'  itoiiM  nor  mend  roadi;  but  the  wrongi  of  the  coiimonilty  stir 
me,  friends,  and  I  find  it  hard  to  lit  tamely  there,  as  my  good 
Comrade  Dupieasis  would  advise,  and  endure  all  tyranny." 

"  Tyranny  as  it  is  used  to-day  is  an  empty  word,"  cried 
Duplessis.  "  Or,  rather,  it  is  wrongly  applied.  It  is  the  tyranny 
of  the  people  that  is  to  be  feared,  the  tyranny  of  the  mob,  of  the 
demagogue." 

Premion's  face  darkened  to  an  expression  of  positive  rage, 
while  Duplessis  went  on  scornfully. 

"Who  has  taken  away  our  priests,  I  ask  you,  and  driven 
na  to  worship  in  fields  and  caves?  Bah!  It  is  revolting.  lean 
not  endure  the  cant  of  the  hour." 

"  Yes ;  they  have  taken  away  our  priests,  these  republicans," 
said  Dumartin,  "and  their  talk  of  liberty  does  not  give  them 
back." 

"  You  take  things  too  seriously,"  said  the  lawyer;  "  the  priests 
who  have  submitted  to  the  Government  are  the  true  friends  of 
France,  of  the  people." 

"  We  will  have  none  of  them,"  cried  Duplessis,  and  his  woroi, 
were  echoed  by  the  entire  assembly. 

"  Oh,  well,  oh,  well,  I  spoke  hastily,"  said  Premion.  "  Let  us 
have  another  glass  and  talk  of  pleasant  things." 

Duplessis,  with  a  hearty  good  night  to  the  landlord  and  the 
other  guests,  strode  from  the  room,  while  the  wine  was  brought 
forth  and  the  talk  once  more  became  animated.  But  Premion  no 
i  longer  touched  upon  political  questions,  and  there  was  a  per- 
ceptible coldness  in  the  manner  of  Dumartin  and  many  others 
I  present. 

When  all  had  gone,  save  one,  a  man  sitting  in  a  distant 
[comer,  who  seemed  to  be  asleep,  and  whom  Premion  supposed 
I  to  be  drunk,  the  lawyer  said  suddenly : 


OITinil  HtMMIOK  /«   INTHOOUOaB. 


"  And  BOW,  Citiien  DonurtiD,  my  worthj  Undlord  and  bat 
of  ionketpen,  thit  the  Kratchn  I  rcc«ired  in  that  nnluckjr  tc- 
cident  in  hriled,  I  must  Inve  you  to-morrow.  I  go  to  Nutea 
on  public  biMineH,  Tlicrefore,  bvfore  retiring,  I  pray  you  to 
let  me  lee  once  more  your  pearl  of  a  dtnghter,  the  lorely  Jeanat. 
I  ht'e  a  token  here  I  would  offer  her  in  appraciation  of  bar 
kindnett." 

He  uid  the  laat  word*  in  a  tone  of  mockery  to  itudied  that  it 
eacaped  Dumartin'i  can. 

"  Kindneta  ia  perchance  a  strong  word,"  he  added  preaently, 
with  a  laugh,  "ainee  the  fair  damsel  has  not  rouchaafed  me  a 
word  or  amile.  But  I  love  coynesa  in  the  sex,  my  good  Du- 
martin,  and  atill  more  do  I  love  beauty,  ao  I  would  fain  offer 
her  my  am«ll  tribute." 

The  innkeeper,  though  his  head  was  somewhat  beclouded  by 
a  too  generous  sampling  of  bis  own  good  wine,  was  manifestly 
uneasy  at  the  propoaal. 

"  Uy  daughters  are  abroad,  sir.  They  hare  been  all  day  with 
Mademoiselle  de  Breteuil  at  the  castle." 

"  The  more  re&son  they  should  be  at  home  now,"  Premion 
said  in  a  loud,  imperious  voice.  "  It  wears  late.  Send  for  them, 
that  I  may  bid  them  farewell." 

The  innkeeper,  who  resented  this  sudden  assumption  of 
authority,  and  was  alarmed  at  the  republican's  interest  i^  his 
daughter,  stood  uncertain.  But  at  that  very  moment  the  door 
opened  and  Jeanne,  followed  by  her  sister  Erminie,  entered  the 
room.  The  two  girls  stood  still  at  sight  of  the  lawyer  in  con- 
versation with  their  father,  and  J ,anne,  with  a  slight  inclination 
of  the  head,  would  have  passed  apetaire.  but  Premion  atoppei' 
her. 

"  Does  a  day  spent  with  the  aristocrats  cause  you  to  forget 


CITIZM}/   rRtmotl  18  ISIHODVOBO.  n 

jour  mumm,  my  pretty  JeuuwP  "  he  liktd  inulentl;.  "  Would 
it  not  be  bettfr  for  you  lo  remiin  here  in  your  proper  pUce,  ,t. 
tending  to  the  comfort  of  your  father",  gnnte,  thin  licliing  the 
ground  under  th.  foet  of  the«  noble.,  «ho  de.pi«  yon  .nd 
ui?" 

The  mm  wu  pUinly  he.ted  by  wino,  u>d  though  Jcmne 
WM  niturally  courageou.,  .he  recoiled  ■  rtep,  while,  at  the  Mm« 
time,  the  m.n  »ho  had  been  .itting  ia  the  comer  of  .he  room 
drew  near,  unperceived  by  Preniion. 

"I  have  told  your  father  that  t  love  beauty,"  he  uid,  "and 
have  al.ay.  remembered  that  f«!e  of  y„ar»  which  took  my 
wandering  fancy  long  ago.  Some  of  thc«.  day,  I  may  rai«  you 
up  and  make  you  th..  wife  of  the  celebrated  Citiaen  Premion. 
How  would  the  title  suit  you,  Citizenew  Morin-Prcmion  ?  " 

The  man  lo  the  cloak,  who  had  drawn  near  unperceived, 
turned  hia  back  at  thi.  moment,  a.  if  controlling  himKlf  by  a! 
effort,  while  Jeanne's  eye.  fla.hcd  and  an  angry  answer  aro«  to 
her  lip,.  But  she  restrained  it.  Premion  wa.  dangerou..  If 
she  precipitated  a  quarrel,  the  conaequence.  might  be  terrible 
When  she  spoke,  it  was  coldly,  but  without  apparent  irritation. 
"You  are  merry,  sir,  at  my  eipenw.  But  the  jest  i.  a  poor 
one,  since  I  am  the  betrothed  of  an  honest  man! " 

"Betrothed!"  laughed  the  lawyer.  "In  these  davs,  when 
marriage  itself  is  put  aside  with  other  .nperrtitions,  a  betrothal 
counts  for  little." 

Then  seeing  the  expression  of  horror  which  crossed  the  fanes 
of  the  two  giris,  as  they  devoutly  crossed  themselres,  Premion 
changed  his  tone  somewhat. 

"Pon't  look  so  serious,  preity  one,  though  man-  a  true  word 
is  spoken  in  jest.  But  tell  me,  what  happy  rustic  has  won  your 
young  affections?" 


18  CITIZEN   PRElttON   IS   INTRODUCED. 

"  Hichard  Duplessis ! "  answered  Jeanne,  looking  steadily  at 
the  lawyer.  His  face  was  instantly  covered  with  so  dark  s  scowl 
that  Jeanne  repented  of  having  mentioned  his  name.  Indeed, 
a  sudden  premonition  of  evil  emote  upon  her. 

"Ah,  indeed,"  said  Premion,  striving  to  conceal  his  anger. 
"  The  Citizen  Duplessis  is  scoring  well  this  evening,  and  I  shall 
not  forget  him.  But  bear  in  mind,  my  pretty  Jeanne,  that 
should  a  member  of  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety  and  an  officer 
of  the  National  Vengeance  Bureau,  one  Citizen  Premion,  seek 
to  elevate  you  to  his  own  dignity,  coyness  will  have  to  be  put 
aside,  and  you  will  have  to  meet  him  with  a  smile  and  a  '  Thank 
you.  Citizen.' " 

"  Ecther  death,"  muttered  Jeanne  beneath  her  breath.  The 
sharp  ears  of  the  lawyer  caught  the  exclamation. 

"  Death  in  these  days  comes  clad  in  a  crimson  garment,  my 
girl,  and  your  neck  is  too  white  and  slender  for  Doctor  Guillotine's 
knife.  Therefore,  be  warned  in  time,  and  accept  this  trifling 
souvenir  which  I  offer  you  as  .in  earnest  of  what  you  may  expect." 
He  held  out  a  small  box  wherein  lay  a  jeweled  ring,  flashing 
froi.i  its  velvet  setting  in  the  firelight  which  leaped  up  from 
the  hearth. 

Jeanne  made  no  movement  to  take  it,  and  Premion  observed, 
"  You,  who  are  so  fond  of  aristocrats,  may  prize  the  bauble  the 
more,  that  it  belonged  to  a  Countess,  who,  proving  herself  an 
enemy  of  the  people,  was  beheaded  last  week." 

With  a  sharp  cry  of  horror,  Jeanne,  followed  by  her  sister, 
flew  pn.<t  the  lawyer  and  upstairs  to  her  own  apartment,  while 
her  father,  his  brain  Iieclouded  by  wine,  still  stood,  stupidly 
staring,  pip,,  in  mouth,  as  if  only  partly  comprehending  what 
was  going  forward.  And  the  man  in  the  cloak,  who  had  at- 
tentively followed  the  conversation,  slipped  out  of  the  room, 


OlTllKK   PRSMIOy   IS   INTRODUCSD. 


» 


still  unobaerred,  and  rushed  stombling  on  through  the  dark- 
ness. 

He  stopped  at  a  substantial  farm  building,  which  stood 
somewhat  back  from  the  highway,  and  knocked  at  the  door. 
The  door  was  instantly  opcnea  by  Richard  Duplessis  himself. 

"  Is  it  you,  Henriot  ? "  he  inquired,  shading  his  eyes  with  his 
hand. 

"  Yes,  Mattre  Duplessis,  'tis  1 1 " 

"  You  heard  what  was  said  after  I  had  left  the  inn?  " 

"  I  did,  and  am  here  to  bring  you  news  of  it." 

Duplessis  drew  him  within,  and  having  carefully  closed  the 
door,  listened  with  compressed  lips  and  frowning  brow  to  the 
tale  which  the  other  had  to  tell. 

"And  so,  Morin-Premion,"  he  cried,  clenching  his  fists, 
"you  have  come  as  the  hawk  from  the  feast  of  carrion  below  at 
the  Capital  to  fasten  on  the  dove." 

"  Why  did  you  not  leave  him  to  rot  on  the  road  when  his 
carriage  was  overturned?"  grumbled  Henriot,  who  was  none 
other  than  the  servant  of  Count  Gaston  de  la  Roche  Andr«, 
eldest  son  of  the  Marquis  of  that  name,  and  the  feudal  seigneur 
of  the  parish  of  Saint  Lyphar. 

"  Nay,  lad ! "  he  cried.  "  I  knew  nothing  of  him  or  his  char- 
acter when  I  undertook  to  play  the  good  Samaritan.  You  would 
not  have  had  me  pass  on  the  other  side? " 

"  I  would  have  had  you  not  go  near  the  place  at  all,"  said 
Henriot,  decidedly.  He  was  not  very  clear  as  to  who  or  what 
was  the  good  Samaritan.  "  And  now  I  must  hasten  to  tell  them 
at  the  castle  what  kind  of  fowl  is  roosting  at  the  Red  Inn." 

"Do  not  alarm  Madame,"  urged  Duplessis.  "Nor  yet 
Mademoiselle  de  Breteuil.  She  is  an  angel,  a  beautiful  spirit. 
She  must  not  be  soiled  with  the  touch  of  pitch." 


M 


Olmsn   PBUMION   IS   INTRODUCED. 


"But  Monsieur  le  Marquis?"  inquired  Henriot 

"It  is  well  he  should  know,"  said  Duplessis,  thoughtfully. 

"But  I  am  gUd  Monsieur  Gaston  is  not  here.     Premion  is 

dangerous." 

"  You  are  already  in  his  black  books  I "  declared  Henriot. 

"  That  matters  nothing  at  aU,"  cried  Duplessis,  with  a  shrug. 
"But  it  is  best  that  yonder  vulture  know  nothing  of  our  knowl- 
edge. He  must  not  suppose  that  I  heard  of  his  lanmaee 
to—"  * 

He  turned  away  in  anger.  It  choked  him  to  think  of  his 
beautiful  Jeanne  subjected  to  such  an  ordeal. 

"'Tis  for  that  I  have  played  rati"  said  Henriot.  "Hebe- 
lieved  me  drunk  or  imbecile." 

He  chuckled  as  he  drew  his  hat  over  Ms  eyes  and  prepared 
to  set  out  for  the  castle,  but  Duplessis  stopped  him. 

"It  is  very  likely  that  Count  Gaston  will  be  here  soon,  for 
look  you,  Henriot,"  and  the  young  man  drew  a  folded  paper  from 
his  breast,  'Jambe  d' Argent  has  given  us  rendezvous  at  the 
inn." 

Henriot,  who  could  not  read,  waited  till  Duplessis  disclosed 
to  him  the  contents  of  the  paper: 

" '  In  the  holy  name  of  God,  on  the  King's  behalf,  the  parish 
of  Saint  Lyphar  is  invited  to  send  as  many  men  as  possible  to  the 
Camp  of  the  High  Meadows,  a  week  hence,  at  seven  o'clock  of 
the  night.' " 

"  Count  Gaston  is  to  meet  me  to-morrow  at  midnight  in  the 
parior  of  the  Red  Inn." 

^'  Count  Gaston,"  ewlaimed  Henriot,  turning  very  pale. 

"He  will  be  there!"  said  Duplessis,  quietly,  "with  sealed 
orders  from  Jambe  d'Argent  himself.  After  our  conference, 
nothing  will  remain  but  the  camp  and  the  field." 


OmtMN   PRBMION   la   IKTltODVCSD.  81 

"  God  help  all  we  love,  Maitre  DupleMis,"  said  Henriot  in  a 
low  voice. 

"In  Him  we  put  our  trust,"  answered  Duplessis,  solemnly. 

A  moment  after  Henriot  was  speeding  homeward  to  the  castle, 
and  Duplessis,  left  alone,  paced  the  room  in  uncontrollable  agi- 
tation. 


W        MADAMS   CONFBRB    WITH   BtCHABD   DUPLEBBIS, 


I  \ 


CHAPTER  II. 

KAOAXE  C0KFEB8  WITH  IIOaABD  DnPLMSIB. 

Now  that  the  storm  was  gathering  .ibout  the  heads  of  the 
nobilitj,  it  behooved  the  faithful  peasants  of  Saint  Lyphar  to 
show  their  devoted  attachment  to  the  family  of  their  feudal  lords, 
the  illustrious  house  of  La  Hoche  Andr«.  Hence,  on  that  lovely 
autumnal  momingwhich  followed  the  somber  night  it  the  Bed  Inn, 
when  Madame  made  her  appearance  in  the  village  streets,  thepeople 
were  all  eagerness  to  show  their  respect,  their  good  will,  their 
devoted  attachment.  It  saddened  them  to  behold  her,  clad  in 
funereal  black,  for  the  news  from  Paris  had  been  bad,  and 
Madame's  brother,  an  officer  of  artillery,  had  lost  his  Lfe  in  the 
service  of  his  King  during  the  storming  of  the  Bastile.  Madame's 
sweet  face  was  none  the  less  serene  and  smiling.  She  was  of  a 
race  which  met  death  with  a  smile  when  it  befell  at  the  post  of 
duty,  and  she  accounted  it  an  honor  that  her  kinsman  should  have 
fallen  in  defense  of  all  that  he  held  sacred. 

As  she  passed  on  her  "-ay,  conversing  with  her  dearly  loved 
peopl ,  each  of  whom  she  saluted  by  name,  the  villagers  crowded 
about,  the  men  hat  in  hand,  bowing  low,  women  teaching  their 
children  to  make  pretty  speeches  to  the  great  and  beautiful  lady 
from  the  castle  yonder.  There  was  nothing  slavish  or  servile  in 
the  love  and  respect  of  these  simple  Vendeans  for  their  superior. 
They  were  free  with  the  true  liberty  of  the  children  of  God,  while 
the  nobles  of  that  district,  on  their  side,  regarded  their  dependents 
with  a  patriarchal,  ahnost  paternal,  interest.    Madame  was  truly 


] 


MA,DA.ME   CONFBRB    WITH   RICHARD    DVPLE8S18.         S3 

their  mother.  They  could  have  recourse  to  her  in  all  their  trials, 
as  Monsieur  le  Marquis  was  their  protector  against  all  aggressors, 
and  the  gallant  young  Gaston  their  outspoken  champion. 

Madame  had  come  down  to  the  village  to  inform  herself  con- 
(•eming  this  wolf  in  sheep's  clothing  who  had  come  into  the  fold, 
striving  to  disseminate  his  perfidious  opinions  among  her  people. 
She  had  all  the  scorn,  a  trifle  narrow,  perhaps,  of  the  true  noble 
for  such  opinions  and  those  who  held  them.  But  among  the 
ignorant  those  counsels  of  evil  might  prevail,  faith  be  weakened, 
charity  lessened,  envy  excited.  Moreover,  .leanne  had  been 
threatened,  that  pretty,  innocent  Jeanne,  who  had  been  the  de- 
voted companion  of  Madame's  ward  and  future  daughter-in-law, 
Yseult  de  Breteuil.  Jeanne  must  be  protected.  This  ill- 
omened  traveler  must  not  be  permitted  to  gain  a  foothold  in  the 
village. 

When  Madame  reached  the  Red  Inn,  she  found  Jeanne  pale 
and  with  a  troubled  look  in  her  eyes.  The  girl's  intuitions  warned 
her  that  there  was  real  danger  in  the  admiration  of  such  a  man 
as  Morin-Premion,  and  she  felt  that  he  had  the  power  to  support 
his  pretensions  in  a  manner  disastrous  to  Richard  Duplcssis  and 
to  her  own  happiness.  These  misgivings  she  freely  confided  to 
Madame. 

"But,  my  child,  the  Blessed  Mother  will  protect  you,"  Ma- 
dame said;  "have  recourse  to  her.  She  can  gain  all  from  her 
divine  Son,  and  as  to  earthly  protectors,  you  have  Monsieur  le 
Marquis  and  your  good  friend.  Count  Gaston,  who  would  cut 
off  his  right  hand  rather  than  that  harm  should  come  to  his 
former  playmate.  Then,  of  course,  there  is  that  other,  the  brave 
and  handsome  Duplessis.  Ah,  there  you  are  blushing,  and  it  is 
well— the  blushes  of  a  first  innocent  love  are  very  beautiful,  and 
not  to  be  hidden." 


M         MADAME   COyFURB    WiTB  RIVBAHD   DUPLMBIB. 

»o  w>«ly,  and  that  your  heart  «  with  the  choice.    I  know  of  no 

heaV"        HM°'  ""  '"■"*  "  *^  °"P'-"-    He  has  .  noble 
heart  „y  eh.ld,  and  great  rtrength  of  character.    So  fear  not  " 

«  0  M  r        r.  '  ''"'"  "'"  '^""'^' '"  "  •'"''  t'^W-g  ""«• 

when  T         f-      .   '™  "*"  *'  '"<"'  "'»''  ""«'  ""^  -"'B  face 
when  I  mentioned  Richard's  name." 

Madame  looked  grave. 

andVJ  't  '™''"  ''"  ™"'  """"  '  "P*'  ""y  »«»«  the  noblest 

nd    he  strongest     But  you  tell  me  this  man  is  gone  now,  and 

he  must  not  come  back.    Mark  you,  Dumartin,"  she  added,  raising 

hervo.ce  to  .nclude  the  innkeeper,  "  this  Premion  must  not  com! 

IS  of  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety  and  of  the  National 
^engeancctoo.  Alas ,  he  can  come  and  go  when  he  wilU  Aye, 
and  have  us  all  carried  off,  too,  if  it  so  please  him  " 

It  st.ll  seemed  as  a  dream  to  the  handsome  and  high-spirited 

than  that  of  Mons.eur  le  Marquis,  and  either  individuals  or  or- 
gamzations  which  could  dare  defv  that  power 

"  '  '"  ""*  ?■'"  "^  "'■"  ™""'"  -"7  '"  "  'he  s.id,  with  thst 
same  easy  carelessness  as  to  the  future  and  want  of  prevision 
.  ich  marked  the  governing  classes  at  the  time  of  the  Revolutir 
s«T:  see,  was  not  the  father  of  this  Premion  Monsieur. 

himl^";  T/T"  """^'^^  """"''^'"'  "'""'  'his  very  lad 
hmself  tended  the  swine.  But.  .la.,,  times  have  changed  He 
.s  a  lawyer  now,  come  to  this  district  on  public  businel,  and  a 


MADAME   CONFBRB    WITH   RICHARD   DVPLtBBia.         S8 

member    of  the  Committee  of  Public  safety.    Ah,  Madame,  no 
one  is  safe  with  whom  that  Committee  has  to  do." 

"I  believe  yon  are  right  there,"  said  Madame;  "the  Com- 
mittee of  Public  Safety  very  much  endangers  the  safety  of  every 
one." 

Neither  the  innkeeper  nor  his  daughter  echoed  the  laugh.  It 
seemed  to  them  as  if  this  fair  and  smiling  lady,  fair  despite  her 
two  grown  up  sons,  one  of  whom  was  with  the  army  and  the  other 
at  the  College  of  Vannes,  and  smiling  despite  the  impending  ruin, 
stood  upon  a  mine  which  might  at  any  moment  explode.  Du- 
ma, tin,  who,  over  night  confused  by  wine,  had  realized  little 
of  what  was  happening,  was  now  full  of  misgivings. 

"  Send  for  Duplessis,"  said  the  Marquise,  suddenly,  impressed, 
perhaps,  by  the  gravity  of  the  two.  "  I  would  like  to  hear  his 
opinion. 

Hichard  came  presently,  bowing  low  to  the  Marquise,  who 
held  out  her  hand  to  him  with  a  charming  smile. 

"  I  want  to  talk  to  you  of  many  things,"  she  said,  "  but  chiefly 
of  what  concerns  one  whom  you  hold  dear." 

"  It  is  of  Jeanne  Madame  would  speak,"  Duplessis  answered 
frankly,  flushing  slightly  as  he  spoke. 

"  Precisely ;  the  poor  little  heart  is  much  cast  down  this  morn- 
ing, and  all  because  of  you." 

Madame  held  Jeanne's  hand  while  she  spoke. 

"Because  of  me?"  Duplessis  inquired  in  surprise.  Then  he 
remembered,  and  added  hastily:  "  She  fears  the  demagogue  who 
was  here  last  night,  the  fighter  of  shadows,  the  republican." 

"Yes,"  said  Madame;  "she  fears  Morion-Premion." 

"And  justly!  '  murmured  Duplessis,  adding  aloud:  "Would 
Madame  favor  me  with  a  moment's  private  speech?  I  have  some- 
thing to  communicate." 


M        MADAME    CONFERH    WITH    RWHiJtD   DVPLKHBIg. 

Madame  rtlcaiied  Jeanne's  hand. 

"  Go,  my  pretty  one,"  she  naid. 

"  But  /or  a  inonunt,"'  whispered  Richard  in  Jeanne'a  ear. 

"  You  should  have  no  secrets  from  me,"  protested  Jeanne ; 
"  we  need  each  other  in  these  evil  times." 

"  Trust  me,  Jeanne,  ma  chine,  my  beloved  one ! "  cried 
Duplessis.    "  It  is  best  that  I  speak  with  Madame  alone." 

Jeanne  smiled  at  him.  She  admired  the  touch  of  authority 
in  his  look  and  tone.  He  would  be  wise  for  both  of  them  in 
the  coming  times,  as  he  was  already  brave  and  strong. 

"You  are  always  right,  Richard!"  she  cried,  impulsively, 
hurryi:.g  away  to  where  her  father  was  already  busy  with  a  cus- 
tomer in  the  room  adjoining.  The  Marquise,  left  alone  with 
Duplessis,  began  at  once; 

"  She  fears  Premion,  and  justly,  you  say?" 

"  It  is  never  wise  to  underestimate  a  dangei,  Duplessis  aaid 
gravely;  "and  the  man  is  certainly  all  powerful  for  evil." 

"  It  is  for  you  she  fears,"  Madame  observed  quietly. 

"  For  me  ?  "  Duplessis  laughed. 

"And  yet  she  is  right.  As  a  man  he  might  be  powerless 
against  you."  And  Madame,  while  she  spoke,  looked  admiringly 
at  the  young  man's  strong  and  sinewy  proportions.  "  But  as  a 
member  of  the  Safety,  of  the  Vengeance — " 

"  I  must  take  all  chances,  as  better  men  have  done,  Madame," 
Duplessis  answered;  "but  for  Jeanne,  the  danger  is  imminent. 
If  there  is  any  place  you  can  advise,  I  would  have  her  sent  away, 
and  this  brings  me  to  a  delicate  matter." 

The  young  man  was  visibly  embarrassed. 

"  Speak,  Duplessis,"  said  the  Marquise  kindly. 

"  What  I  have  to  say  refers  to  a  member  of  your  own  house- 
hold." 


UAOAUt   OOSrSKB    WITB   BIOBARD   DVfLBgaiB. 


A  shidow  fell  upon  the  bright  face  of  the  lietencr,  aa  a  cloud 
upon  the  aurface  of  a  shining  lake. 

'*  Speak,  nevertheless ! "  she  cried,  with  a  certain  tone  of  com- 
mand, of  pride,  as  though  declaring  herself  equal  to  all  misfor- 
tunes. 

"This  Premion,  this  miscreant,"  said  Duplessis,  hesitating 
no  longer,  "  has  been  heard  to  say  that  he  would  marry  Jeanne 
to-morrow,  in  spite  of  the  whole  parish,  were  it  not  that  his  ad- 
.'uiration  is  divided.  In  short,  he  has  dared  to  bring  in  the  name 
of  Mademoiselle  de  Breteuil." 

"  Enough."  said  Madame;  "  I  understand  I " 

She  was  very  pale  and  silent  for  a  moment,  during  which 
Richard  kept  his  eyes  steadily  fixed  upon  the  somber  Breton  land- 
scape, visible  from  the  latticed  window  of  the  inn.  Then  Madame 
spoke: 

"His  very  utterance  of  their  names  insults  the  inno- 
cence of  our  beloved  ones,  but  you  are  right,  i,  hen  he 
has  ventured  so  far,  they  must  be  placed  at  once  outside 
the  circle  of  his  infamous  influence.  There  is  a  convent 
in  Has  Poitou  where,  for  the  time  being,  they  shall  be  safe. 
I  shall  inform  Monsieur  without  delay.  They  must  go  as 
soon  as  possible.  It  is  fortunate  that  Count  Qaston  is  absent. 
For,  in  spite  of  all  consequences,  this  wretch's  bones  would  be 
broken." 

"I  have  Cf.-.tributed  to  that  end  myself,"  said  Duplessis. 
"  This  morning,  as  he  was  leaving  for  Nantes,  I  chanced  to  meet 
Iiim  at  a  point  just  beyond  the  village,  and  I  broke  a  stick  upon 
him.  V  ^as  a  stout  stick,  too.  He  returned  to  the  Public  Safety 
in  a  damaged  state.^' 

There  was  a  grim  smile  of  satisfaction  upon  his  face  as  he 
spoke,  but  Madame  cned  out  in  terror : 


MADAMt   COKFgRB   WITH   RICHARD   DVPLB8UB. 


:i 

li 


"  Oh,  you  hare  be«n  imprudent.  You  have  put  your  life  in 
danger." 

"  I  am  a  man,"  aaid  Duplenis,  quietly,  "  and  having  heard 
what  paned  la<t  night,  I  could  not  permit  him  to  go  unpun- 
ished. Hi«  insults  to  my  betrothed  wife  and  his  insolent  mention 
of  that  other  name  demanded  chastisement.  While  revenging 
my  own  wrongs,  I  had  a  thought  for  Monsieur  Gaston,  toa  So 
1  gave  him  a  double  share." 

The  Marquise,  despite  her  anxiety,  could  not  repreu  a  smile, 

"  I  am  afraid  it  is  a  bad  business  for  you,"  she  observed. 

"  Had  I  followed  my  own  inclination,  Madame,"  said 
Duplessis,  "I  should  have  killed  him.  I  had  to  remember 
that  I  was  a  Catholic  and  a  Vendean,  and  that  murder  is  a 
crime." 

"  Jeanne  will  be  always  sure  of  a  protector  while  that  right 
arm  is  free,"  said  Madame,  sadly.  "  But,  oh,  there  are  manacles 
for  the  stoutest  arms  and  dungeons  for  the  bravest  hearts." 

"  Once  Jeanne  and  that  other  are  safe,"  declared  the  young 
man,  "  I  shall  take  the  risk.  In  any  case,  I  shall  be  leaving  Saint 
Lyphar  in  the  course  of  the  week.  For,"  and  he  lowered  his 
voice,  and  glanced  cautiously  toward  the  door,  "the  summons 
has  come  from  Jambe  d'Argent  for  the  men  of  the  parish." 

Madame  leaned  back  in  her  chair,  pressing  her  hand  to  her 
heart. 

"  So  soon,"  she  murmured ;  "  so  soon." 

"  I  meet  Count  Gaston  to-night,"  Duplessis  went  on. 

"Where?" 

"  i   re  at  the  Red  Inn.    Count  Gaston  will  be  here." 

"Gaston  here  I"  cried  the  Marquise,  sitting  upright,  and 
drawing  a  quick,  gasping  breath,  then,  almost  immediately,  she 
added ;  "  Of  course,  I  might  have  known  it.     Who  should  lead 


UJLDAMt   COSrSRS   WITH    RWUAKD   DVPLBSBIg. 


Ihe  men  of  Stint  Lyphir  except  their  natural  chief?  Honiieur 
le  Marquis  is  too  old.    Oaston  niu»t  take  his  place." 

"  I  nci-d  not  remind  jou,  lladaniu,"  said  Duplcssis,  "  that 
it  is  of  thu  last  importance  that  his  coming  be  kept  secret. 
He  brings  our  orders.  I  shall  serve  under  him  as  his  lieu- 
tenant." 

"  The  closest  secrecy  shall  be  enforced  1  "  said  Madame.  "  Only 
ourselves  and  Henriot  must  know  of  his  coming.  Meantime, 
beware,  lest  this  Premiou  should  seize  upon  your  person." 

"  Once  this  meeting  is  over,"  said  Duplcssis,  "  I  can  treat  him, 
if  necessary,  to  a  game  of  cache-cache.  He  could  never  catch 
me  in  those  old  days  in  the  marshes  and  the  Bocage." 

He  smiled  and  the  Marquise  looked  at  him  with  almost  the 
same  admiration  she  would  have  bestowed  upon  her  beloved 
Gaston. 

"  And  now  as  to  Mademoiselle  and  Jeanne,"  she  said,  con- 
trolling the  emotion  which  had  been  awakcLcd  by  the  thought 
of  Gaston's  arrival  and  of  the  new  dangers  which  threatened 
him.  "  I  shall  learn  Monsieur's  pleasure  in  that  matter  without 
delay.  A  gentleman  of  Poitou,  who  is  at  present  our  guest, 
M.  de  Kergarion,  will  be  returning  home  in  a  day  or  two,  and  I 
shall  place  our  dear  ones  under  bis  safe  conduct,  he  will  see 
them  within  the  convent  walls.  I  will  speak  to  Duma-tin  at 
once." 

"And  I  will  prepare  Jeanne,"  agreed  Duplessit , 

"  Will  she  listen  to  you  ?  " 

"  I  have  an  infallible  argument.  I  shall  tell  her  ti.-*  as 
regards  Premion,  her  absence  will  best  insure  my  safety,  and, 
moreover,  that  I  can  with  a  free  mind  devote  myself  to  the  service 
of  God  and  the  King  when  I  know  that  she  is  sheltered  from 
harm." 


»        MADAMM  COHrSRg   WITH   HWUARD  DVniUH. 

"  Miy  Ood  protect  ui  til,"  iighed  the  Mtrqoiw. 

"  Amen,"  Hid  the  uldier  of  La  Vend«e,  rerorently  bowing 
hii  head. 

"  For,  oh,  Duplewii,"  cried  the  lady,  with  tndden  wealtening. 
"  I  begin  to  we,  to  feel  all.  Evil  timea  are  upon  ui,  and  the  end 
i«  not  yet." 

"  God  will  be  our  helper;  God  and  our  Lady,"  laid  Duplewii, 
Bolcmnly;  "hut  the  time  is  come  when  tome  of  ua  mnrt  Uke  up 
arms  apiin  for  our  faith  and  our  King,  for  God  and  country. 
Adieu,  Madame." 

And  Duplewis  turned  away  aa  if  to  conceal  his  emotion,  while 
Madame,  looking  after  him,  murmured : 

"Think  Ood  that  in  U  Vendfe,  at  least,  there  are  many 
•uch  as  he  I " 

Upon  her  return  to  the  chateau,  she  related  all  that  had 
paeswl  to  the  Marquis.  He  was  so  deeply  affected  by  the  in- 
telligence that  he  seemed  unable  to  think  or  -peak  of  ai.;  ihing 
else.  So  that  when  Madame  sat  upon  the  terrace  with  M.  de 
Kergarion,  her  guest,  listening  to  the  news  of  events  in  Paris, 
which  had  been  brought  by  two  young  gentlemen  of  Poitou,  who 
had  called  to  pay  their  respects  to  the  family  of  La  Roche 
Andr*,  the  Marquis  paced  back  and  forth  in  solitary  meditation. 
He  was  a  man  of  quick  and  penetrating  .ntellect,  and  already  he 
perceived,  as  in  a  panorama  spread  out  before  him,  the  blood- 
stained land  of  France.  He  already  seemed  to  see  the  smoke 
from  the  chateaux,  the  dismal  processions  to  the  guillotine,  and 
the  extinguished  lights  upon  the  altar,  and  it  came  to  him'with 
overpowering  sadness,  the  futility  of  effort.  He  knew  that 
already  the  peasants  of  La  Vendfe,  under  Stofflet  and  Cathe- 
lineau.  under  Lsrochejaquelein  and  Lescuri,  had  measured 
their  strength  with  the  republican  forces,  and  in  many  in 


MADAna  coyrwHi  with  kivhakd  dvflbkkis. 


had  borne  iwiy  the  palm  of  victory.  But  »uoh  Ticlorios,  tip  well 
knew,  were  eluiive,  and  but  the  ignit  faluui  which  lurrd  the  in- 
nurgent"  on  to  ultimate  ruin.  He  had  no  doubt  whati'vcr  of  the 
juatice  of  their  oau«',  nor  did  he  dcnire  for  one  miinieat  that 
they  should  rclinquinh  the  <truggle  and  Bulimit  without  effort  to 
the  new  conditionn.  On  the  contrary,  it  wa»  hi>  intention  to  be 
present  at  the  nioeting  of  leaders  in  the  parlor  of  the  Hed  Inn, 
and  there  to  encourage,  by  every  means  in  his  power,  this  move- 
ment among  his  people.  Since  his  age  prevented  him  from 
going  with  thi-m  to  the  ranks  of  the  Catliolic  and  royal  army, 
he  would,  at  least,  share  the  risks  of  their  secret  deliberations, 
and  offer  his  son  to  be  the  leader  of  the  enterprise.  He  fully 
agreed,  however,  with  Madame,  that  their  ward,  the  beautiful 
Yseult  dc  Breteuil,  the  daughter  of  an  old  friend,  and,  as  they 
hoped,  the  future  wife  of  their  eldest  son,  Count  Oaston,  should  no 
lunger  remain  in  a  neighborhood  which  might  be  constantly 
pollutiil  by  the  presence  of  the  unprincipled  demagogue.  Premion. 
And  as  he  walked  thus  and  pondered  on  all  the»j  things,  he  heard 
one  of  the  young  men  on  the  terrace  sa^ ; 

"That  rancally  Premion,  one  of  the  most  base  of  Carrier'a 
infernal  crew,  has  been  laid  up  by  the  heels.  An  honest  royalist, 
it  appears,  gave  him  the  beating  he  has  long  deeerved.  I  say, 
Long  live  that  royalist,  whoever  he  be." 

"  But,"  objected  the  brother,  "  that  good  action  may  cost  the 
Vendean  dear.  For  Premion  has  sworn  to  send  him  to  the  guillo- 
tine in  less  than  a  month  with  his  sweetheart,  who,  it  seems, 
has  abetted  the  royalist,  and  that  he  himself  will  smoke  out  a 
certain  nest  of  aristocrats,  and,  having  married  a  certain  lady 
of  rank,  will  settle  down  quietly  in  the  untenantwl  chateau." 

The  young  man  rattled  all  this  news  out  carelessly.  He  had 
no  idea  that  it  waa  in  Saint  Lyphar  Premion  had  been  beaten. 


83         MADAME   CONFERS    WITB   RICHARD    DVPLEaSIS. 

nor  that  any  of  the  actors  in  the  drama  he  had  just  outlined 
could  be  known  to  the  household  of  Roche  Andr6.  What  was 
hie  consternation,  then,  when  he  saw  Madame  fall  back  in  her 
chair,  pale  and  halt  fainting,  while  the  Marquis,  startled  by 
the  exclamations  of  M.  de  Kergarion  and  the  two  young  men, 
hurried  to  the  spot.  He,  too,  had  hoard  the  fatal  words,  and 
guessed  the  reason  of  his  wife's  seizure.  By  a  great  effort 
Madame  presently  rallied. 

"It  is  nothing,  gentlemen,"  she  said;  "a  slight  weakness. 
I  have  been  overfatiguing  myself  to-day,  walking  to  and  from 
the  village." 

For  she  did  not  wish  that  these  young  men,  gentlemen  though 
they  were  and  royalists,  should  connect  the  family  of  Roche 
Andre  and  the  name  of  Yseult  de  Breteuil  with  the  odious  official 
of  the  revolutionary  tribunals.  She  led  the  conversation  easily 
and  lightly  into  safer  channels,  and  it  was  only  after  the  young 
men  had  taken  their  leave  and  M.  de  Kergarion  had  retired  to 
his  apartments  that  she  discussed  the  matter  with  her  husband. 

"You  heard  what  was  said  of  Premion?"  she  inquired  of 
her  husband,  with  trembling  eagerness. 

"  Yes;  and  though  I  can  not  bring  myself  to  regret  what  our 
brave  Dnplessis  has  done— it  was  the  natural  impulse  of  an  honest 
man— I  feel  sure  that  i'remion  will,  if  possible,  carry  out  his 
threat.  He  can  ea«ily  find  matter  of  accusation  for  Duplessis's 
gallant  behavior  with  Cathelineau,  and  his  grand  army  have 
already  made  him  a  marked  man." 

"But  it  was  not  only  Duplessis  whom  he  threatened,"  faltered 
Madame. 

"  I  know,  he  has  ventured  much  further,"  said  the  Mar^nis, 
trying  to  control  the  anger  which  boiled  up  within  him! 
"  irademoiselle  de  Breteuil.  with  the  little  Dumartin,  ehaU  pro- 


MADAME   COHFERB    WITH   BICHARD   DVPLE88IS.         98 

ceed  with  M.  de  Kergarion  to  morrow  or  next  day  to  the  convent. 
After  that  we  shall  see  '■  -.kv  uicn  of  Koche  Andr«  can  not  deal 
with  this  scoundrel  as  h    de^ervt■s.' 

He  paced  up  and  dc  it.  the  room,  adding  presently :  "  Yon 
will  forgive  the  warmth  of  my  cip.-'jsions,  and  as  for  Yseult, 
she  must  hear  nothing,  save  that  the  country  is  disturbed." 

"God  forbid  that  she  should  hear  anything  more,"  said 
Madame;  "  it  is  bad  enough  that  poor,  pretty  Jeanne  should  learn 
from  the  man  himself  of  his  insulting  admiration ;  but  our  Yscult, 
never." 

"  We  allude  to  the  matter  for  the  last  time,  my  love,"  said  the 
Marquis.  "  M.  de  Kergarion  travels  with  two  or  three  mounted 
servants,  well  armed.  We  need  have  no  further  fear.  But  I 
need  not  remind  you  that  meantime  Yseult  must  not  stir  outside 
the  grounds." 

And  so  it  was  settled  that  the  two  girls  should  go  away. 
Richard,  as  he  had  promised,  brolte  the  news  to  Jeanne,  who  had 
answered  bravely: 

"  It  breaks  my  heart  to  leave  you,  Richard,  for  the  few  days 
that  you  will  be  in  Saint  Lyphar.  But  if  it  is  for  your  safety, 
I  would  go  to  the  end  of  the  world.  And,  0,  Richard,  tell  me 
tmly,  shall  you  be  safe  ? " 

"  I  shall  be  looked  after,  do  you  see,  by  the  Committee  of 
Public  Safety,"  laughed  Richard. 

"You  are  jesting  when  my  heart  is  sore  within  me,"  said 
Jeanne,  reproachfully. 

"But  there  is  no  reason  for  heartache,  little  sweetheart," 
said  Richard,  "eicept  that  we  shall  be  separated,  and  that  we 
should  have  been  in  any  case,  as  I  must  follow  Monsieur  Gaston 
to  the  camp  of  Jambe  d' Argent.  Once  there,  I  shall  not  give 
much  heed  to  the  Blues." 


M        MADAME   COKFERS   WITH   RICBARD   DVPLBSSIS. 


I 


"  Promise  me,  my  dearest,  that  you  will  not  in  the  mean  time 
quarrel  with  this  terrible  Prcraion." 

"  There  is  no  immediate  danger  of  a  quarrel,"  said  Duplessis 
with  a  smile,  thinking  with  satisfaction  that  Premion  would  not 
be  in  good  fighting  condition  fpr  some  time  to  come. 

*'  Promise  me !  "  persisted  Jeanne. 

"Well,  I  am  not  likely  to  attack  Premion,"  suid  Hichard, 
"  and  I  don't  think  he  will  attack  me." 

"  That  is  no  promise." 

"  If  he  attacks  mc,  I  suppose  I  must  defend  myself,"  Richard 
answered,  still  laughing,  but  there  was  an  infinite  tenderness 
in  his  tone,  as  he  added :  "  Dry  those  tears,  my  true-hearted 
Jeanne,  my  own  dearest  love.  Be  comforted,  the  man  for  the 
moment  is  powerless." 

Jeanne  was  called  away  just  then  by  a  message  from  Made- 
moiselle de  Breteuil,  begging  that  she  would  go  up  to  the  castle. 
Yseult  ran  to  meet  her. 

"  Did  you  know  that  we  are  going  away  together  to  the  Con- 
vent at  Thouars?  " 

"Yes,  Mademoiselle,"  Jeanne  answered  sadly. 

"  You  must  not  call  me  Mademoiselle,  and  you  must  not 
puU  such  a  long  face.  As  for  me,  I  am  always  delighted  to  see 
my  dear  nuns.    But  I  wonder  why  we  are  being  sent." 

"  I  know  why  I  am  being  sent,"  cried  Jeanne,  with  flashing 
eyes.  "  It  is  because  of  a  wretch  who  has  come  to  our  village, 
and  who  insults  me  with  his  admiration." 

"How  romantic,"  exclaimed  Yseult,  "and  how  vexed  your 
handsome  Richard  must  have  been.  But  what  was  this  man 
like?" 

"  Tall,  with  a  brown  beard  and  black  eyea  that  snapped  when 
he  talked." 


MADAME   C0XFER8    WITH   BlCHAJtD    DVPLEBaiS. 


SS 


"  0,"  said  Yseult,  with  sudden  remembrance,  "  I  think  I  have 
seen  him,  too." 

And  then  she  grew  very  thoughtful,  remembering,  with  a 
shudder,  the  face  of  a  man  who  had  insolently  stared  at  her 
over  the  wall  of  the  flower-garden  some  days  before,  and  who 
had  darctl  to  call  out: 

"  Beautiful  as  Diana.    The  queen  of  the  flowers  herself!  " 

Her  face  crimsoned  at  the  recollection,  but  she  would  not 
speak  of  such  a  thing. 

"  Were  Count  Gaston  to  hear  of  it,"  she  thought ;  "  but,  thank 
God,  he  never  shall." 

The  thought  was  followed  by  another.  She  was  a  girl  of 
wonderfully  clear  insight.  The  man  was  causing  Jeanne's 
banishment  by  his  insulting  notice.  Could  he  have  dared  to 
bring  her  own  name  into  his  revolting  speech? 

"  You  will  help  me,  Jeanne,  to  prepare,"  she  said  quietly. 
"  M.  de  Kergarion  has  decided  to  leave  to-morrow,  and,  for  my 
part,  I  am  an.tions  to  be  gone." 

"  You  do  not  know,  then,"  said  Jeanne,  somewhat  nettled 
by  Yseult's  eagerness  to  leave  Saint  Lyphar,  "  that  Count  Gaston 
will  arrive  to-night  ?  " 

A  lovely  color  glowed  in  Yseult's  cheeks.  She  was  so  beautiful, 
with  her  oval  face,  refined  and  spiritual,  her  ..^ngitive  nature, 
full  of  unexpected  depths,  of  outreaching  sympathy.  For  a 
moment  her  imagination  pictured  the  handsome,  glowing  face 
of  the  young  Count,  all  eagerness,  riding  up  the  avenue  in  his 
dark  blue  riding-coat  and  three-cornered  hat,  as  she  had  last  seen 
him.  She  could  almost  hear  his  voice,  so  clear  and  ringing,  so 
vibrant  and  passionate  at  times,  when  st'rrci  by  any  emotion. 

"  I  did  not  know,  I  had  not  heard.! '.'  she  said,  with  some 
hesitation.  ,   . 


MADAME   CONFERa   WITH   RICHARD   DVPLESBIS. 


'^  His  CDDiing  is  a  secret,  #hich  I,  perhaps,  had  do  right  to 
reveal,"  said  Jeanne.    "  It  is  on  public  business." 

"  On  public  business  ?  "  repeated  Yseult,  bewildered. 

'*  He  will  not  come  to  the  castle." 

"  ^^^here,  then  ?  " 

"  To  the  parlor  of  the  Ked  Inn,  and  at  midnight.  The  men  of 
Saint  Lypbar  have  been  summoned.  He  is  to  lead  them,  with 
Richard  as  his  lieutenant." 

Yseult'a  eyes  opened  wide  with  a  look  of  fear  and  horror,  her 
face  grew  pale,  her  lips  trembled. 

"He  has  been  in  danger  already,"  she  said,  "in  battle;  but 
this  is  different.     0  my  God  !  *' 

And  she  covered  her  face  with  her  hands. 

"  I  have  told  you  this,"  said  Jeanne,  in  a  firm  voice,  though 
her  face,  to(»,  reflected  something  of  the  others  anguish,  "be- 
cause I  thought  you  might  like  to  see  and  bid  him  farewell." 

Yseult  drew  back  with  a  hasty  movement. 

"You  mistake."  she  said,  proudly.  "We  are  not  betrothed. 
He  has  not  yet  asked  formally  for  my  hand.  I  can  not  go  to  meet 
him." 

"  Mademoiselle,"  said  Jeanne,  "  we  peasants  treat  our  hearts 
better  than  you  nobles.  Monsieur  Gaston  loves  you,  worships 
the  very  ground  you  tread  upon.  The  betrothal  is  delayed  only 
because  of  this  war.  He  will  not  come  to  the  castle  for  fear  of 
endangering  your  safety.  He  will  not  ask  you  to  meet  him  for 
the  same  reason.  But  you  are  going  away  and  he,  in  a  week's 
time,  will  be  in  the  van  of  the  Catholic  army.  I,  a  peasant, 
would  not  hesitate  to  bid  him  Godspeed,  at  least.  You,  as  a  lady, 
must  do  as  you  will !  " 

There  was  a  severe  istruggle  goin?  on  in  Yseult's  riind. 
J^a^nnr's  wird«  4T«ck  her  to  th**  heart,  as.  a  dagger  mighv  ha?* 


MADAMB   OOVFERB   WITB   RICHARD   UUPLESSIS.         W 


done,  and  yet  there  were  pride,  reserve,  the  traditions  of  her 
caste,  the  very  opinion  which  Gaston  might  tonn  of  her  con- 
duct, all  warring  against  that  one  desire  to  bid  her  young  soldier 
farewell  and  encourage  him  by  her  own  words  to  fight  the  good 
fight  for  King  and  country. 

"  I  will  go,"  she  said  at  last,  "  to  the  Red  Inn,  for  a  quarter 
of  an  hour,  before  the  midnight  meeting.  You  and  Erminie  will 
attend  me,  and  you  will  accompany  me  back  to  the  chateau.  Ix-t 
it  be  understood  that  my  desire  is  to  encourage,  by  personal 
sympathy,  the  chief  of  this  movement  and  his  lieutenant." 

Jeanne  looked  at  her  with  surprise.  She  could  not  under- 
stand. 

"  So  long  as  you  come,  it  is  well,"  she  said.  "  But  forgive 
my  plain  speaking.  Mademoiselle,  the  love  of  an  honest  heart  need 
not  be  hidden  under  fine  phrases." 

"  Let  it  suffice  that  [  have  promised  to  come  to  the  Red  Inn 
to-night,"  said  Yseult,  with  some  haughtiness,  and  so  they  parted. 


ii'y    Hi    HUlliUBORUOOD    OF   RED    INS. 


CHAPTER  III. 

A  BPT  APPEARS  IN-  TIIK  NEKlUBOnllOOD  OF  THE  RED  INN. 

When  Yseult  dc  Bretpuil  had  promised  Joanne  that  she 
would  visit  the  Bed  Inn  at  the  hour  appo!nte<l  for  the  conference 
between  Count  Gaston  and  his  lieutenant,  she  had  resolved  to 
say  nothing  of  her  determination  to  the  Marquis  and  Marquise 
de  la  Hoche  AndrS.  Though  she  was  not  aware  of  their  special 
anxiety  on  her  account,  because  of  the  boastful  talk  of  the 
parvenu  lawyer,  she  felt  certain  that  they  would  disapprove  of 
the  risk  she  was  running.  Moreover,  she  shrank  not  a  little  from 
announcing  to  them  a  project  which  was  far  from  being  in 
consonance  with  her  reserve  of  character  and  the  traditions  of 

her  caste. 

On  the  other  hand,  Jeanne's  argument  had  powerfully  affected 
her.  The  sturdy  common  sense  and  womanliness  of  the  peasant- 
bred  girl  had  brushed  aside,  like  a  cobweb,  what  was,  after  all, 
a  mere  convention.  Oaston  was  her  playmate,  her  early  friend, 
almost  her  brother.  He  was  going  into  the  heart  of  a  desperate 
struggle,  and  he  was  even  risking  his  life  by  this  secret  visit  to 
Saint  Lyphar,  where  the  organization  peculiar  to  the  forces 
of  one  leader,  the  celebrated  Jambe  d' Argent,  was  already  in 
existence.  For  by  means  of  this  system  the  men  of  the  village  re- 
mainod  at  home,  in  readiness,  however,  for  instant  service  under 
their  natural  leaders.    Gaston  was  facing  death  for  the  noblest 


BPr   m   KBIOHBORBOOD    OF  BED   I\y. 


of  all  causes.  Should  she  not,  therefore,  show  her  sympathy 
with  that  movement,  ar'l  a  sister's  interest  in  the  man  who  was 
its  local  representative? 

Therefore,  she  managed  to  leave  the  castle,  in  company  with 
Jeanne,  who  had  met  her  at  the  gate,  proceeding  with  as  much 
caution  and  secrecy  as  po8sil)lc  to  the  Red  Inn  of  Saint  Lyphar. 
Muffled  in  their  cloaks,  so  as  to  lie  almost  entirely  unrecognizable, 
the  two  girls  were  admitted  to  the  inn  by  Erminie  and  conducted 
at  once  to  a  small  apartment  adjoining  tlie  tap-room,  where  a 
man,  seated  at  a  table,  seemed  lost  in  deep  thought.  Yseult  did 
not  at  first  recognize  Gaston,  whom  she  had  never  seen  before  in 
the  costume  of  La  Vendue. 

He  wore  a  short,  gray  surcoat,  tied  with  blue,  a  white  woolen 
waistcoat,  and  breeches  of  brown  wool.  On  the  table  beside  him 
was  a  broad-brimmed  hat,  adorned  with  a  white  cockade  and  an 
oaken  sprig.  From  his  buttonhole  was  suspended  a  rosary,  while 
a  scapular  at  his  breast  was  a  further  token  of  his  enlistment  in 
the  Catholic  and  royal  army. 

He  turned  sharply  round  at  the  opening  of  the  door,  and  as 
Yseult  threw  back  her  cloak,  he  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"  Mademoiselle,"  he  cried,  in  a  tone  of  so  great  astonishment 
that  Yseult  felt  her  face  crimson.  In  an  instant,  however,  her 
natural  dignity  came  to  her  aid. 

"  Monsieur  Gaston,"  she  said,  "  I  have  learned  that  you  are 
here  on  a  perilous  mission,  and  that  you  are  going  hence  to  the 
camp  of  the  insurgent  leader.  Since  such  is  the  case,  considering 
our  early  friendship,  I  could  not  let  you  go  without  a  word  of 
farewell." 

"  Mademoiselle,"  said  Gaston,  and  his  manner,  at  once  grave 
and  ceremonioBB,  put  the  young  girl  more  at  bfr  ease  than  any- 
thing else  could  have  done,  "  I  am  deeply  touched  b-  a  thoughtful- 


40  spy  IX  yBiOHBouaooD  of  red  iny. 

ne«8  on  your  part,  which  will  ease  the  pain  of  my  departure  and 
brighten  the  future  before  me." 

Then  with  a  sudden  involuntary  outburst: 

"0,  Yseult,  you   have  put   your  life  in  danger,  and   for 


The  girl  turned  aside,  full  of  an  indescribable  emotion,  but 
instantly  Gaston  resumed  his  former  grave  courtesy  of  look  and 
tone.  He  would  sooner  have  cut  off  his  right  hand  than  have 
reminded  her  at  that  moment  of  the  tender  relations  which  he 
hoped  would  one  day  unite  them.  She  had  come  as  a  sister. 
It  was  the  part  of  a  gentleman  to  maintain  the  fraternal  re- 
lation. 

"  You  know,  perhaps,  that  I  am  about  to  leave  the  chateau," 
Yseult  said,  breaking  the  son  ewhat  embarrassing  silence. 

"  I  had  not  known  it !  "  cried  Gaston  in  surprise.  "  It  must 
be  very  sudden." 

"  Jeanne  and  I  are  being  put  in  shelter  in  a  convent." 

"  You  will  be  safe  there,  it  is  true,"  said  Gaston,  thoughtfully. 
"But  why  this  sudden  decision  on  my  father's  part?  The 
chateau  has  not  been  threatened?  You  have  not  been  annoyed 
in  any  manner?" 

Yseult  felt  the  hot  blood  mounting  to  her  face.  She  could 
not  bear  the  thought  that  Gaston  should  know  of  Premion's  in- 
solent braggadocio. 

"Y^our  father  says  it  is  a  measure  of  precaution,"  Yseult 
answered,  "  resolved  upon  in  solemn  conclave  of  our  ciders." 

Gaston  gave  her  a  keen  look.  He  was  not  deceived  by  the 
lightness  of  her  tone  and  words.  But  he  did  not  push  the  inquiry 
any  further. 

"  So  that  is  another  reason  I  wanted  to  see  you  and  say  fare- 
well, and  to  let  yon  know  how  perfectly  I  am  in  sympathy  with 


8J>7  IN   SEIOHBORBOOD    OF   RED   IKS. 


41 


the  ciuse.  0,  Gaston,  it  in  a  glorious  thing  to  fight  for  Ood  and 
the  King." 

How  beautiful  she  wn^  thus,  with  her  glowing  cheeks  and  eyes 
lighted  by  a  sacred  enthusiasm  I  Oaston  felt  that  at  that  moment 
he  fairly  worshiped  her  with  all  the  ardor  of  his  glowing  Celtic 
nature.    But  he  only  said  sadly : 

"  You  forget  we  have  no  King  any  more." 

"  But  we  shall  faave.  It  is  his  cause  none  the  less,  the  cause 
of  royalty." 

"  And  now,"  said  Gaston,  "  the  brother  is  about  to  assert  hie 
authority  and  bid  you  return  to  the  chateau  without  delay.  It 
grieves  me,  for  your  own  sake,  that  I  dare  not  accompany  you, 
lest  any  spy  should  follow  and  denounce  us." 

"  Jeanne  will  accompany  me,"  said  Yseult  gaily.  "  She  is 
guard  sufficient." 

"  She  shall  come  to  no  harm,  I  promise  you.  Monsieur  Gaston, 
that  I  can  prevent,"  spoke  up  Jeanne,  sturdily,  from  the  position 
near  the  door  where  she  uid  Erminie,  at  Yseult's  request,  had 
stationed  themselves. 

"  To  you,  then,  I  confide  her,"  he  said,  turning  to  Jeanne, 
with  that  gracious  affability  which  so  endeared  him  to  the  com- 
monalty. 

"  Adieu,  Mademoiselle,"  he  said,  taking  Yseult's  hand.  "  liet 
me  offer  you  the  certainty  of  a  devotion  which  shall  never  fail. 
I  shall  never  forget  to-night,  and,  perhaps,  you  will  never  know 
what  inspiration  I  have  found  in  your  words  and  presence 
here." 

"  Godspeed  you  and  your  gallant  cause,  Oaston  I "  cried 
Yseult.    "  May  He  have  you  in  His  keeping  till  we  meet  again ! " 

Then,  without  another  word,  she  signed  to  Jeanne  to  follow, 
and  left  the  Bed  Inn. 


SPY   IN   HEIOHBORBOOD    OF   RED   lyy. 


On  the  daya  following  the  meeting  between  Count  Oaaton  and 
Duplesais,  the  details  of  which  were  kept  secret  save  to  those  con- 
cerned, there  was  a  strange  flutter  in  the  village.  Secret  prepa- 
rations were  being  carried  on  at  all  the  farms  and  in  the  mud 
cabins  of  the  peasantry.  News  from  the  Capital,  froiu  Nantes, 
from  Angers,  wu  coming  in  by  every  post;  strange,  wild  news 
which  seemed  to  these  peasants  incredible.  The  nation  was  in  a 
ferment,  and  La  Vendte  was  already  taking  part  in  the  universal 
upheaval.  Movements  were  everywhere  on  foot,  victories  had 
been  won  over  the  Blues,  and  peasants  and  gentlemen  were 
fighting,  or  preparing  to  fight,  side  by  side  for  King,  for  country, 
but  more  than  all,  for  the  grand  old  faith  dear  to  their  Gaelic 
hearts.  Men  might  die  for  what  they  would,  the  soldiers  of 
La  Vendue  would  die  first  of  all  for  Ood.  And  this  gave  them 
a  heroic  valor,  an  endurance,  a  determination,  incomprehen- 
sible to  the  republicans.  The  names  of  Larwhejaquelein, 
Lescuri,  Cathelineau,  Stofflet,  d'Elbfe  and  Bonchamp  were  even 
then  on  every  tongue,  while  Charrette,  Jean  Chouan  de  Puissage, 
and  a  dozen  other  intrepid  leaders  were  later  to  give  their  lives 
for  the  cause  of  God. 

The  parishes  were  gradually  organizing,  or  had  already  or- 
ganized, and,  having  driven  off  the  Blues,  the  peasants  returned 
to  their  farms,  calmly  pursued  their  work,  and  waited  for  a  fresh 
summons  to  arms. 

At  Saint  Lyphar  a  light  snow  had  fallen,  yet  the  streets  were 
thronged  with  women  assembling  in  an.'iious  groups.  It  was 
known  that  Monsieur  Gaston  had  come  home,  riding  gaily  up 
to  the  castle,  no  longer  in  the  homespun  of  the  Catholic  army, 
hut  in  the  richest  apparel  possible,  and  riding  with  him  had 
come  his  brother,  the  serious  and  silent  student  from  the  Col- 
lege at  Vannes.    Count  Gaston's  object  in  appearing  thus  openly 


afY   IS    XmOHBUHBOOD   or  KBD    IKS. 


4» 


at  hit  (ither's  ancntral  dwelling  waa  to  divert  luapicion  from 
his  secret  movements,  until  the  plans  which  he  and  Duplessis 
had  formed  could  be  perfecte<l.  But  it  served  to  mystify  still 
further  the  simple  villagers,  and  especially  the  kindred  of  those 
who  had  enlisted  in  the  royulist  army.  It  was  further  known 
that  Mademoiselle  do  Breteuil,  aeeompanied  by  Jeanne  Duraartin, 
had  left  Saint  Uyphar  for  a  place  of  greater  safety. 

Hence  the  feeling  of  uneasiness  which  was  abroad.  The  Red  Inn 
itself  had  an  air  almost  of  desolation,  so  thought  the  Marquis  de  la 
Koche  Andr6  as  he  came  thither  on  the  third  morning  after  the 
secret  meeting.  None  stood  alioiit  the  door  save  Richard 
Duplessis,  who,  with  grave  and  care-shadowed  face,  conversed 
with  Erminie.  The  Marquis  paused  and  looked  awhile  at  the 
hous>^  Its  aspect  seemed  to  him  to  speak  already  of  change  and 
desolation.  How  gay  it  used  to  look,  with  the  red  firelight  stream- 
ing out  through  door  and  window,  and  old  Dumartin  wel- 
coming his  guests  with  beaming  face  to  his  hospitable  place  of 
entertainment.  The  Marquis,  never  a  man  of  many  words, 
saluted  Duplessis  with  unusual  gravity.  Erminie,  engrossed  in 
the  topic  uppermost  in  her  mind,  of  her  beloved  sister,  never  even 
observed  the  approach  of  the  old  gentleman  until  he  had  gone  by. 

The  whole  atmosphere  chilled  and  depressed  the  Marquis, 
and  he  passed  on  with  head  bent  and  menaured  step.  He  was 
quite  unaware  that  a  man  in  the  background  observed  his  every 
movement,  and  seemed  particularly  anxious  to  know  if  he  entered 
the  Red  Inn  or  held  any  communication  with  its  inmates.  The 
fellow,  who  was  dressed  in  striped  trousers,  with  waistcoat  of 
calico,  coat  of  brown  wool,  with  a  woolen  cap  upon  his  head,  and 
who  was  evidi  ntly  a  stranger  in  the  parish,  did  not  at  once  per- 
ceive Duplessis  or  his  companion,  who  were  hidden  by  a  projection 
of  the  inn  wall.  Nor  might  he  have  perceived  them  at  all.  so  intent 


I 


»Fr   IN   NMIOHBOHHOUU    Of   RED    IJ/K. 


WW  he  npoo  hii  obiervatioDs,  had  not  DuplcMis  addreut'd  him 
in  (tern,  decided  accent*^ 

"  Friend,  have  you  any  bunincw  with  the  Marquit  de  la  Roche 
Andr«." 

The  »py  atartwl  and  iippeand  fur  the  moment  crcatfallen  and 
Kubdued.  Pren-ntly  iii'  rwoveri'd  hiinivlf,  nnd  with  the  iiwagger- 
ing  gait  and  tone  which  were  thr  hall  niarlcs  of  the  revolutioniata 
answered : 

"  I  deny  your  right  to  quoiitinn  mc;  but  if  your  cars  itch  for 
information,  I  have  a  curiosity  to  see  the  Citizen  Roche  Andri, 
who  is  in  bad  repute  where  I  como  from  ac  a  harborer  of  priests 
and  the  father  of  at  least  one  r«l-lint  traitor  to  the  nation." 

Duplessis  repressed  his  angrr  as  best  hf  could. 

"Keep  your  vile  tavern  talk  for  where  it  will  be  rcliahed, 
or  your  ears  may  suffer,  my  fine  cockatoo,  and  you  may  chance 
tc  get  a  bath  in  the  Loire.'* 

"  Mere  is  a  fine  nest  of  traitors,"  said  the  spy,  recoiling  a  pace 
or  two.  "  We,  the  friends  of  the  nation,  will  have  to  smoke  it 
out.  And  you.  Citizen,  have  a  care,  or  you  may  dance  to  Madame 
Guillotine's  singing." 

"  Traitor  to  your  teeth,  vile  dog  of  a  spy ! "  cried  Richard, 
losing  all  control  of  himself,  as  he  realized  that  the  man  before 
him  was,  no  doubt,  one  of  those  infamous  "  spies  of  the  mountain  " 
who  were  just  then  tracking  suspected  persons  and  committin;,' 
all  manner  of  crimes  in  the  neighborhood  of  Nantes.  He  would 
very  possibly  have  fallen  upon  the  follow  and  given  him  a  thrasli- 
ing  had  not  the  calm,  grave  voice  of  the  Marquis  interposed.  He 
had  turned  back  at  the  sound  of  angry  voices. 

"  My  brave  Duplessis,  control  yourself  I  "  he  said ;  "  your 
hands  were  made  for  better  work,  .-ind  you,  fellow,  give  an  ac- 
count of  yourself,  and  your  business  here." 


trr   IN   SEIOUBORHOOD    OF   RED   INN. 


Fire  flatbed  from  the  Marquii'  eyea,  and  hia  waa  a  terrible 
voict'  of  autbority  when  pitcbeil  to  angrr. 

"  I  bavv  overheard  your  dixcoune,"  he  aaid,  "  which  aaturedly 
can  not  be  allowed  in  thia  diatrict.  If  you  have  not  left  Saint 
Lyiihar  in  an  hour,  I  ahall  cauao  my  aervanta  to  u«e  tbeir  atavea 
upon  you,  and,  believe  me,  the  beating  you  ahall  then  receive 
will  be  in  proportion  to  your  offenae.  Therefore,  be  warned  in 
time,  and  depart  while  your  akin  ia  whole." 

The  fellow  alunk  away,  awed  aa  much  by  the  majeaty  of  the 
old  man  aa  by  hia  threata.  He  knew  enough  of  the  place  to  be 
certain  that  the  conimande  of  the  Marquia  would  be  faithfully 
carried  out,  and  he  had  little  reliah  for  a  drubbing  from  the  aer- 
vanta of  Roche  .\ndri.  When,  however,  the  Marquis  bad  pasaed 
on  and  the  apy  waa  at  a  aafe  diatance  from  Dupleaaia  and  the 
inn,  he  atopped  and  ahook  hia  fiat  thrxateningly,  oiiding  a  whole 
ahower  of  imprecations  after  the  venerable  figure.^ 

"  He  ahall  aoon  lie  low,  shorter  by  a  head,  though  I  did  not 
catch  the  cunning  old  fox  in  communication  with  the  traitors 
of  the  inn.  He  little  knows  that  I,  hidden  in  the  top  room, 
heard  every  word  that  was  said  by  hia  traitor  of  a  son  to  the 
villain  Dupleaaia.  Aye,  and  more  than  that."  And  the  fellow 
laughed  at  the  recollection. 

"  I  saw  the  girl  from  the  castle  up  yonder  come  a  sweet- 
hearting  with  the  young  Roche  Andr*,  and  she  put  her  neck  into 
my  bands,  too,  with  her  talk  about  the  Catholic  army.  Premion 
wants  her  for  himself,  some  say,  though  others  will  tell  yon  that 
he  prefers  the  peasant,  Dumartin.  If  that  be  so,  maybe  this 
aristocrat  might  be  knocked  to  me.  No,  no;  what  a  fine  thing 
is  revolution." 

He  danced  for  very  glee,  adding  presently,  however,  with  a 
darkening  countenance: 


apr  ly  ksiohborhood  of  bed  lyy. 


"  And  as  for  this  fine  Dupleosis,  Premion  will  pay  well  for 
the  news  I  have  to  tell  of  him.  If  I  can  but  reach  Nantes  in  time, 
the  journey  he  takes  will  not  be  to  Jambe  d' Argent's  camp,  but 
to  the  dungeon  of  the  Clock  Tower.  After  that  the  national  razor 
will  soon  lop  oS  his  accursed  head." 

He  laughed  aloud  again  in  his  gratification  at  the  prospect. 

"  Oh.  but  there  will  be  a  dance  when  all  these  fat  peasants, 
who  have  put  down  their  names  as  recruits  for  the  brigands, 
shall  be  sent  to  build  the  underground  fort  of  the  Loire  or  shot 
in  the  quarries  of  Oigant.  But  who  comes?  I  must  keep  out 
of  sight."  He  stepped  into  a  doorway  which  stood  invitingly  open, 
and  whence  he  looked  cautiously  forth.  It  was  Madame  la  Mar- 
quise de  la  Boche  AnAti,  who  came  down  the  village  street,  ac- 
companied by  her  two  sons.  She  was,  indeed,  a  proud  and  joyful 
mother  as  she  walked  between  the  two  stalwart  young  men. 
Robert,  the  younger,  had  but  just  left  the  College  at  Vannes 
with  a  view  to  joining  the  army,  and  Gaston,  her  preux  chevalier, 
had  already  won  honors  in  the  field.  He  had  served  with  the 
Royal  Regiment,  and  had  been  present  at  Versailles  at  that  fatal 
but  heroic  banquet,  when  the  last,  wild  enthusiasm  of  loyal  hearts 
expended  itself  in  vivats  and  cheering.  Gaston  had  vividly  de- 
scribed to  bis  mother  the  inspiring  moment  when  the  band  had 
struck  up  "  Richard,  0  man  Roi,"  and,  amid  a  storm  of  applause, 
the  gentlemen  present  had  sprung  to  their  feet,  drinking  a  toast 
to  Louis,  the  King,  and  to  the  Queen,  who  just  then  appeared 
holding  her  son  in  her  arms.  Gaston  still  proudly  wore  the  white 
cockade  which  the  Queen  had  pinned  upon  the  breast  of  every 
officer  and  noble  present,  but  he  had  long  since  exchanged  the 
brilliant  uniform  of  the  Hoyal  Regiment,  now  no  longer  in  ex- 
istence, for  the  gray  frieze  of  the  Vendean  army,  and  had  fol- 
lowed the  fortunes  of  d'Elb^  and  Bonchamp. 


BFT   IN  VElOaaOBBOOD    OF   RED   WW. 


So  the  heart  of  Madame  beat  with  pride  in  her  sons,  and  par- 
ticularly this  handsome  Gaston.  In  their  honor  she  had  cast 
aside  the  mourning  garb  and  appeared,  as  of  old,  in  a  costly 
robe  made  by  a  modiste  of  the  Capital,  and  a  mantle  of  rich  velvet. 
The  spy,  from  his  hiding-place,  could  hear  the  village  children 
whispering  that  this  was  the  beautiful  Marquise,  and  the  two 
great  gentlemen  her  sons.  Gaston,  in  particular,  was  the  idol 
of  every  village  youth.  They  told  of  the  honors  he  had  won,  of 
his  bravery,  of  his  splendid  uniform  and  sword  which  he  had 
been  accustomed  to  -vear,  and  of  the  feats  of  arms  he  had  per- 
formed. He  was  to  them  as  a  legendary  hero  of  old  tales,  and  the 
wretch,  who  listened,  ground  his  teeth  with  malignant  envy  at 
the  good  looks,  the  good  fortune,  the  high  station,  and  the  popu- 
larity of  the  young  soldier.  He  was,  in  truth,  dear  to  the  hearts 
of  the  people  as  their  native  laud  itself,  the  beloved  young  Count, 
their  champion,  who  had  fought  many  a  battle  for  the  weaker 
ones  of  the  village,  who  had  relieved  so  much  misery  and  shown 
himself  always  gallant  and  chivalrous,  generous  and  full  of  kind- 
ness toward  the  poor.  In  religion  he  had  been  their  exemplar. 
In  the  courtesy  of  a  gentleman  of  ancient  lineage  he  had  been 
without  a  peer,  and  the  simplicity  and  elegance  of  his  manners 
had  won  for  him  distinction  at  a  court  which  had  been  the  most 
brilliant  in  Europe.  Robert,  the  younger  of  the  two,  was  less 
known  to  the  people,  having  been  long  absent  at  college,  and  was 
less  likely  to  attain  popularity  than  his  brother,  being  of  a  silent, 
reserved  nature,  tingeti  with  hauteur. 

Madame  herself  held  her  head  with  more  of  stateliness  than 
was  her  wont,  for  the  republican  element,  which  was  beginning 
to  show  its  head  at  Saint  Lyphar,  must  be  taught  to  recofniize 
its  superiors.  Moreover,  her  heart  was  sore,  for  she  knew  that 
Gaston,  in  a  day  or  two,  would  have  to  take  the  field  again. 


I 


gPT  W  NSIOHBORHOOD    OF  RKD   WW. 


fighting  under  a  leader  who  was  famooB  for  recklew  biavery  and 
for  the  desperate  chances  he  took.  The  name  of  Jambe  d'Argent 
was,  indeed,  a  menace  and  a  terror  to  the  Blues,  and  inspired 
something  of  awe  even  in  his  peasant  soldiers.  Robert  had  like- 
wise decided  to  join  the  forces  of  Larochejaquelein  and  become, 
like  his  brother,  a  soldier  of  La  Vendfe.  As  the  noble  trio  walked 
along,  they  were  wholly  unaware  of  the  villaiii  who  lurked  in 
ambush,  consumed  with  envious  rage  and  the  fearful  passion  of 
greed  which  caused  him  to  set  particular  store  on  the  dennnciation 
of  Count  Gaston,  who  would  bring  a  high  price  from  the  tribunal 
at  ITantes. 

"  Oh,  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  de  vout  pincer,"  he  growled, 
under  his  teeth,  "  and  you  shall  squeal,  too,  for  all  your  titles  and 
honors  and  your  braggadocio  airs.  And  when  I  have  got  you, 
I  shall  come  back  again  for  the  other,  and  for  his  old  hellhound 
of  a  father,  who  threatened  to  have  me  beaten  from  the  place. 
Madame,  too,  shall  have  her  turn,  for  all  her  fine  lady  airs.  The 
women  of  the  guillotine  will  soon  strip  her  of  all  her  fine  feathers 
and  set  her  dancing  to  their  tune." 

For  thus  as  a  storm  is  often  in  the  air  long  before  it  is  per- 
ceived, neither  of  the  three,  as  they  waved  cheerful  salutes  to  the 
good  people  of  Saint  Lyphar,  could  have  guessed  that  the  dark- 
ness was  already  closing  around  them,  and  that  the  doors  of  a 
dungeon  were  yawning  for  the  brave  young  leader  of  the  Catholic 
and  royal  army.  Indeed,  as  Count  Gaston  walked,  he  cast  sig- 
nificant glances  at  some  of  the  young  men,  or  made  them  a 
gesture  which  they  fully  understood,  and  which  referred  to  those 
projects  which  he  and  Duplessis  had  debated  at  the  Bed  Inn, 
and  which  had  been  overheard  by  Premion's  spy. 

His  mind  was  full  of  the  glorious  enterprise,  and  he  counted 
over  and  over  the  number  of  men  which  he  should  ba  able  to 


BPT  IW  HmOHBORHOOD    OF  RED   IXV.  4« 

bring  to  the  aid  of  the  intrepid  Jambe  d'Argent  But  he  strove 
to  Iteep  up  a  cheerful  and  desultory  conversation  with  Ms  mother 
or  with  the  passers-by,  that  no  suspicion  of  the  truth  should  dawn 
upon  those  who  were  outside  of  the  secret. 

"By  this  day  week,"  he  though  exultingly,  "we  shaU  be 
fighting,  and  I  shall  be  able  to  justify  Yseult's  opinion  and  to 
deserve  her  approving  words." 

Then  a  smile  passed  across  his  face  as  he  recalled  the  vision 
of  Yseult  at  the  Bed  Inn,  and  his  whole  heart  went  out  in  an  im- 
pulse of  chivalrous  devotion  to  the  beautiful  girl  whoi  he  had 
loved  from  boyhood. 

"When  we  have  defeated  the  Blues,  as  with  God's  help  we 
shall,"  he  thought,  "then,  perhaps,  there  will  be  our  betrothal. 
Unworthy  as  I  am,  she  wiU,  perhaps,  deign  to  give  me  her  love 
and  to  become  my  wife." 

So  idly  do  men  dream,  knowing  not  what  the  morrow  may 
bring  forth,  and  so  darkly  may  misfortune  lower  when  the  sun 
seems  to  shine  brightest 


TBB  AHRBST   OF   RlCHAJtD   DVPLEBBIB. 


CHAPTEB  IV. 


THE  ABBE8T  OF  BICHABO  DDPLE8SIS. 


Mobin-Pbemion,  who  had  but  just  recovered  from  the 
chastisement  which  he  had  received  at  the  hands  of  Kichard 
Duplcssis,  was  burning  with  impatience  for  the  return  of  his  spy. 
He  hoped  that  the  man  would  have  but  httle  difficulty  in  ob- 
taining incriminating  evidence  against  the  Vendean.  For  though 
it  was  a  maxim  of  the  infamous  Carrier,  then  in  the  zenith  of  his 
power  at  Nantes,  that  any  individual  denounced  to  the  tribunal 
by  a  friend  of  the  Republic  would  be  certain  of  condemnation,  still 
Premion  wanted  to  make  assurance  doubly  sure.  Before  pro- 
curing the  warrant,  he  was,  moreover,  anxious  to  have  the  cer- 
tainty of  Duplessis's  presence  in  the  village  of  Saint  Lyphar, 
for  once  he  had  taken  to  the  Bocage  or  the  marshes  his  -pture 
would  be  a  forlorn  hope. 

His  rage  as  he  waited  grew  to  fever  heat.  He  hated  Duplessis. 
He  had  always  hated  him  for  his  personal  superiority,  his  in- 
tegrity, his  fine  moral  sense,  his  contempt  for  meanness.  Ho 
hated  him  for  the  injuries  lately  received  at  his  hand,  and,  above 
all,  he  hated  him  as  the  successful  suitor  of  Jeanne  Dumartin. 
Years  before,  when  Premion  had  been  the  son  of  a  swineherd, 
and  himself  pursued  that  calling,  he  had  been  smitten  with  ad- 
miration for  the  girl's  fine  proportions,  her  pretty  face,  her 
courage,  and  her  industry,  and  he  had  dreamed  of  winning  her 
some  day  for  his  wife,  as  he  might  have  dreamed  of  winning  some 
great  lady,  for  the  daujibttr  of  the  prosperous  innkeeper  was 


THB   ABBSBT   OF   BICHABD   DVPLBCBIS. 


at  that  time  far  above  him,  and  this  had  given  a  spur  to  his 
feeling  in  her  regard.  He  repeated  over  and  over  to  him- 
self that  one  day  she  should  be  his,  and  when  Jeanne  treated  him 
with  contempt,  for  even  as  a  lad  he  had  lieen  crafty  and  full  of 
meanness,  and  Jeanne  had  despised  him,  he  only  resolved  the 
more  obstinately  to  overcome  her  aversion  and  become  her  hus- 
band. 

No*  Ihat  he  could  laugh  at  the  idea  of  her  former  social 
superiority,  ard  had  himself  risen  to  '\  higher  plane,  he  was  still 
deeply  infatuated  with  her  face  and  figure.  Her  personality  in- 
terested him,  her  strength  and  vigor  of  character,  and  even  her 
rustic  simplicity,  had  a  charm  for  him  such  as  no  fine  lady  could 
have  exercised,  and  the  fact  that  she  loved  another  and  was,  to 
a  certain  degree,  unattainable,  only  gave  her  an  added  value  in 
his  eyes. 

Despite  hie  love  for  Jeanne,  he  was,  however,  a  man  of  un- 
usual ambition,  and,  like  many  of  those  who  talked  the  loudest 
about  equality,  he  had  in  his  heart  an  unbounded  respect  for 
rank  and  a  desire  to  raise  himself  to  the  highest  possible  level.  It 
had,  therefore,  occurred  to  him,  as  a  glorious  dream,  that  he 
might  take  to  wife  Yseult  de  Breteuil,  who  was  a  countess  in 
her  own  right,  and  the  destined  wife  of  Gaston  de  la  Hoche 
Andr«.  She,  too,  was  beautiful.  In  some  moods  he  told  himself 
that  it  would  be  easy  to  forget  Jeanne,  and  that  he  would  be 
happier  with  that  lovely  lady  at  his  side,  the  envy  and  admira- 
tion of  his  associates  at  the  Capital.  In  these  struggles  with 
himself,  a  powerful  argument  in  favor  of  Jeanne  was  his  hatred 
for  Richard  Duplessis.  He  could  not  endure  the  thought  that 
his  mortal  enemy  should  love  and  be  beloved  by  Jeanne,  and  he 
told  himself  that  rather  than  sec  her  marry  Duplessis  he  would 
kill  her  with  his  own  hands,  or  behold  her  die  upon  the  guillotine. 


TBE   ABHSBT   OF  BWUAMB   DVPLBBSIB. 


In  any  caw,  he  would  put  Richard  out  of  his  way  farCTer. 
The  course  of  revolutionary  jurtico  was  short.  It  was  but  a  step 
from  the  court  room  to  the  guillotine. 

"  He  is  dangerous  to  the  State,  dangerous  to  my  own  interests, 
and  my  personal  enemy,"  said  Morin-Premion  to  himself,  as  he 
paced  his  room,  waiting  for  the  return  of  his  spy.  "  Those  are 
three  very  excellent  reasons  why  he  should  be  put  out  of  the  way 
as  soon  as  possible." 

As  he  thus  communed  with  himself  he  heard  the  sound  of 
drums,  and  looking  out  of  the  window  beheld  a  detachment 
of  republican  troops  marching  out  against  the  insurgents, 
and  as  they  went,  Premion  thought  with  pride  that  he  had 
been  instrumental  in  causing  their  dispatch.  He  saw  the 
townspeople  standing  about  in  groups  to  look  at  them. 
Young  men  and  women,  children,  and  the  very  beggar  who 
crouched  outside  the  door  soliciting  alms  at  the  edge  of 
the  pavement,  all  were  intent  on  that  brilliant  spectacle, 
and  Premion  wondered  if  they  coupled  his  name  with  the 
event. 

Suddenly  he  felt  his  sleeve  twitched,  and  turning,  beheld  the 
spy,  who  had  just  returned  from  Saint  Lyphar.  Premion,  for- 
getting all  about  the  soldiers,  sprang  eagerly  forward  with  a 
question  on  his  lips. 

"  Good  news.  Citizen !  "  cried  the  fellow.  "  Duplessis  is  at 
Saint  Lyphar.  I  saw  him  talking  to  a  girl  at  the  door  of  the 
Red  Inn." 

A  deep  flush  covered  Premion's  face,  and  he  scowled  omi- 
nously. The  girl,  he  thought,  must  lie  Jeanne,  though  it  was,  in 
truth,  Ermiuie,  for  he  did  not  know  that  Jeanne  was  then  on 
her  way  to  the  Convent  of  Angers. 

"  Well?"  he  eaid  shortly. 


TBU   ARIttST   or   RtOBARD   DVPLEBBIS.  U 

"  The  girl,"  gaid  the  fellow,  with  a  jocularity  which  Premion 
felt  to  be  insolent,  "  was  not  the  one  yon  think." 

And  he  gave  a  knowing  wink. 

"  It  was  the  sister.    That  one  is  far  away." 

"Far  away?"  echoed  Premion,  blankly. 

"Yes;  gone  with  the  woman  de  Breteuil  from  the  castle  to 
a  conTent,  where  there  shall  be  no  love-making." 

"  To  a  convent  I "  cried  Premion,  a  sudden  rage  seizing  him, 
for  he  knew  that  the  two  girls  of  whom  he  had  been  dreaming 
were  thus,  for  the  time  being,  out  of  his  reach  entirely.  "  This 
is  some  more  of  that  infernal  Duplessis's  meddling.  Oh,  he  shall 
pay  for  it  I    But  you,  fellow,  have  you  no  better  news  to  tell  ?  " 

"I  have  that  in  my  budget  which  shall  send  the  Citizen 
Duplessis  to  the  guillotine  when  you  will,  and  with  him  the  young 
Roche  Andr*." 

The  man  paused,  while  Premion's  eyes  sparkled. 

"  Go  on,"  he  cried,  hoarsely,  "  tell  me  all." 

"And  which  may,  even,"  continued  the  wretch,  "get  the 
two  dainty  birds  out  of  their  cage,  convent  though  it  be." 

"  Speak ! "  cried  Premion,  "  and  name  your  own  price  after." 

His  face  was  pale  with  excitement  and  full  of  exultant  malice. 

"  I  overheard  the  conference  between  the  two  leaders  of  the 
brigards  in  the  parish  of  Saint  Lyphar,"  began  the  man. 

"And  they  were?" 

"Gaston  Hoche  Andr«  and  Richard  Duplessis." 

Premion's  breath  came  in  short  gasps,  as  one  who  had  been 
running. 

"Wliat  moreP"  he  demanded. 

"I  saw  the  Citizeness  de  Breteuil  enter  the  parlor  of  the 
Red  Inn,  and  heard  her  declare  that  her  heart  was  with  the  in- 
surgents.    It  was  with  their  leader,  anyway,"  the  fellow  con- 


THt   AKIIMT   or   mOBARD    DVPLEBBIB. 


eluded  with  a  grin.  "  It  was  plain  to  see  that  here  were  two 
turtle  doves.  Only  with  the  aristocrats  love  is  all  in  fine  phrases 
and  bowing  and  smiling." 

"Let  that  pass,"  said  Premion,  bruskly,  "and  finish  youv 
story." 

"Jeanne  Dumartin  was  present  and  tallced  treason  tiy  the 
yard,  and  she  promised  the  traitor  Dupleseis  to  \>e  his  wife  at 
any  time  he  asked  for  her,  and  said  that  she  loved  him  better 
than  anything  on  earth,  and  next  only  to  God.  She  is  super- 
stitious, that  one;  but  when  she  loves  a  man,  she  loves  him,  and 
isn't  afraid  to  say  so,  like  the  pale  one  from  the  castle  above." 

While  the  spy  chattered  on,  all  the  light  of  exultation  had  gone 
out  of  Premion's  face,  and  his  pallor  was  that  of  the  dead.  Every 
word  of  the  wretch's  story  was  as  a  dagger  turning  in  a  fester- 
ing wound.  He  knew,  then,  that  he  preferred  Jeanne  to  every- 
thing, that  for  her  he  would  renounce  ambition,  wealth,  and  all 
that  it  could  give.  Duplessis  must  first  of  all  be  got  out  of  the  way. 
He  hated  him  at  that  moment  with  a  concentrated  fury  of  hate, 
such  as  Satan  might  have  felt  toward  the  first  man  in  his  para- 
dise. The  scene  which  the  spy  had  conjured  up  maddened  him. 
Joanne,  strong,  and  true,  and  tender,  pledging  herself  with  loving 
looks  and  words  and  smiles  to  that  other,  whom  he  could  imagine 
radiant  with  happiness,  braving  death  cheerfully  for  a  cause  which 
Jeanne  loved. 

"  We  are  wasting  time,"  he  cried,  springing  up.  "  Here  is  the 
death  warrant,  and  there  is  Duplessis  waiting  to  be  caged  and 
dragged  to  the  scaffold ! " 

The  spy  was  half  alarmed  at  the  tone  and  words,  spoken  in 
a  quick,  panting  fashion,  with  a  tiger-like  eagerness,  a  fearful 
ferocity.  He  stood  silently  regarding  Premion,  who  turned  on 
him  with  the  question: 


THE   ARRB8T   OF   RICHARD    DUPLHagiS. 


"ThU  tniitoi  knows  nothing,  suspects  nothing?" 

"  No ;  he  was  laughing  at  the  wild  goose  chase  upon  which  you 
were  sending  your  soldiers." 

Ridicule  was  what  Premion  could  bear  least  of  all,  and  from 
him. 

"He  shall  laugh  in  another  fashion  before  long,"  he  cried 
out.  "  He  shall  die,  not  all  at  once,  but  slowly,  lingeringly,  and 
he  shall  see  Jeanne  married  to  me  before  his  eyes  by  a  consti- 
tutional priest  whom  they  both  despise.  Yes;  he  shall  lie  chained 
there,  with  manacles  on  hie  legs  and  wrists  and  a  weight  upon  hi» 
chest,  while  the  ceremony  is  in  progress." 

The  spy  began  to  fear  that  Premion's  mind  was  affected,  for 
even  he  had  never  seen  conflicting  passions  so  terribly  portrayed 
upon  a  human  countenance.  And  while  he  spoke,  he  fumbled, 
aimlessly,  as  one  who  scarce  knew  what  he  was  doing,  in  a  comer 
of  his  desk.  Thence  he  drew  forth  a  warrant  for  the  arrest  of 
Richard  Marie  Duplessis  on  a  charge  of  conspiracy  against  the 
State.  "  To  which  shall  now  be  added,"  he  cried,  with  a  grim 
laugh,  "  a  number  of  other  charges." 

The  curious  spy,  looking  over  Premion's  shoulder,  as  the  latter 
bent  down  to  the  desk,  saw  another  warrant,  marked  to  be  used 
in  an  emergency,  and  bearing  the  name  of  Gaston  Raonl  Marie 
Albert  de  la  Roche  Andr«.  The  spy  stared  with  all  his  eyes, 
for  the  Roche  Andrfe  were  still  a  power  in  the  district. 
Premion,  angered  by  his  inquisitiveness,  end  glad  to  vent  the  rage 
which  consumed  him  upon  some  one,  dealt  the  wretch  a  cuff 
upon  the  ear  which  caused  him  to  stagger  back.  For  that  blow, 
Premion  was  one  day  to  pay  dearly.  At  the  moment,  how- 
'ever,  the  fellow's  look  of  dark  resentment  troubled  him  not 
at  all. 

"It  was  all  very  well  in  the  old  days,"  grumbled  the  spy. 


M  n»   AKRMBT   or   RIOHABD   DVPLBMIt. 

"  when  u  arittocrat  might  detl  hii  inferior  ■  blow,  bnt  now  w* 
in  til  eqnal — " 

"  And  I  ahall  mike  both  yonr  can  equal  b;  dealing  jon  a  blow 
upon  the  other  one,  if  you  don't  cease  your  parrot  talk.  Men  ire 
not  equal,  booby,  and  never  will  be.  For  instance,  how  could 
yon,  with  your  shock  head  and  fillainous  face,  your  ragged  clothet 
and  your  asinine  stupidity,  equal  mc  ? " 

"  The  aristocrats  were  right,  then  ?  "  muttered  the  man;  "  ind 
when  ill  is  done  we  shall  only  have  exchanged  good  nuaten  for 
bid  ones  I" 

"What  are  you  muttering  there?"  cried  Premion. 

The  fellow  made  no  answer,  and  Premion,  tying  up  the  docu- 
ments of  which  he  had  need,  bade  him  follow  to  the  office  of  the 
National  Vengeance, 

During  all  this  time,  Richard  had  remained  at  Saint  Lypbir 
without  misgivings  of  any  sort.  Premion  had  never  set  foot  in 
the  village  since  his  departure,  and  even  the  stranger  who  had 
been  seen  lurking  about  for  a  day  or  two,  and  whose  preaenos 
mij^t  have  given  rise  to  disquietude,  had  vanished.  Bichard 
was  kept  busy  with  his  plans  for  the  transporting  of  the  villagers 
to  the  farm  of  Grand  Bordage,  known  as  the  Camp  of  the  Hi^ 
Meadows.  And  when  he  found  himself  at  leisure,  he  gave  him- 
self up  not  to  imaginary  terrors  concerning  Premion,  but  to  tender 
thoughts  of  Jeanne,  her  last  farewell,  so  brave,  so  womanly,  so 
unselfish. 

On  the  second  night  after  his  meeting  with  Gaston,  and  his 
farewell  to  his  betrothed,  he  was  rudely  awakened  from  sleep  by 
the  sudden  openic     >f  his  bedroom  door. 

The  dawn  was  just  rising,  faint  and  beautiful,  over  Saint 
Lyphar,  with  luminous  masses  of  vivid  yellow  shading  into  gold. 
By  the  dim  light  Duplewis  perceived  the  figures  of  three  persons, 


rjrc  ARHMBT  or  HKHAKD  DVrLKItlt. 


one  of  whom  idruced  to  hU  bediide.  With  «  lickening  heut, 
Duplenu  recogniwd  hii  uniform.  It  wai  thit  of  the  H*nt 
Corpt  tt  Nintet,  a  body  of  ruffiiiM  organized  by  Carrier  for 
domiciliaiy  riaita  and  the  arreat  of  auapectt. 

The  man,  without  delay,  proceeded  to  read  a  warrant 
for  the  aireet  of  Richard  Marie  Dupleaaia  aa  a  traitor  to  the 
Bepublic. 

"  You  mnat  ariae  and  accompany  na  at  once,"  aaid  the  man, 
when  he  had  Sniabed  reading. 

A  wild  thought  of  reaiatance,  of  poeaible  eacape,  flaahed 
through  Bichard'a  mind.  He  was  atrong,  courageoua,  active  of 
body,  and  reeolnte  of  mind,  and  it  aeemed  to  him  that  he  could 
not  tamely  aubmit  to  auch  an  outrage. 

"  And  what  if  I  do  not  go  with  you  ?  "  he  aalied. 

The  man  pointed  aignificantly  at  hia  two  armed  companiona 
atanding  in  the  background.  Richard'a  cooler  judgment  told  him 
that  reaiatance  waa  impoeeible. 

"  Who  is  my  accuser  ?  "  he  asked,  as  he  arose  and  began  to 
prepare  for  departure. 

"  That  you  will  know  soon  enough." 

"I  think  I  might  guess  even  now,"  Richard  aaid,  with  a 
laugh,  "  There  is  a  hound  whom  I  have  lately  thrashed.  Some 
doga,  the  human  sort,  are  vindictive." 

"  Yon  had  better  havp  a  care  of  your  8}«ech,  Citizen  Duplessis, 
and  so  I  warn  you,"  said  the  official. 

"  Speech  or  silence  vrill  avail  little,"  said  Richard,  dryly. 
"  But  I  may  strive  to  con  over  some  pretty  phrases  which  may 
tickle  your  ears  on  the  road  to  Nantes." 

The  man  flushed,  seei";  that  he  was  being  mocked. 

"Yon  will  be  silent  enough  in  the  dungeon  of  the  Clock 
Tower,"  he  said  sullenly. 


«e  THt   ARRKBT   Of   RIOHAKD   DUPLXKHlt. 

"  Oh,  indeeil,"  cried  Richtrd,  "  will  there  be  no  raoh  ohMrfn] 
•piriti  u  jrourwlf  there  to  keep  me  company  ? " 

"  Shut  your  cursed  mouth,"  roared  the  man, 

"  We  are  not  yet  at  the  Cloclt  Tower,"  Richard  reminded  him. 
"  But  I  am  now  ready  to  proceed  to  that  delectable  abode." 

"You'll  be  there  soon  enough,  brigand,  and  crying  to  get 
out  of  it,"  retorted  the  man  aaragely. 

"  Have  you  inhabited  the  place  yourwlf— I  mean  in  the  good 
old  dayi  before  honest  men  got  posaesaion?"  Richard  blandly 
inquired,  with  the  same  grim  humor. 

The  official  furiously  ordered  his  comrades  to  aeise  upon 
Richard,  who  was  in  a  white  heat  of  rage  at  having  been  lo  easily 
trapped,  and  suffered  his  saturnine  humor  to  play  about  the 
head  of  the  Marat  man  all  the  way  to  Nantes.  It  was  a  pity 
that  Richard  should  thus  have  turned  the  official's  pig-headed 
indifference  into  positive  hostility,  for  he  was  by  no  means  the 
worst  of  his  tribe,  but  merely  a  dull  fellow,  who  had  p<Tsuaded 
himself,  from  certain  speeches  he  had  heard  and  pamphlets  he 
had  read,  that  everything  was  going  wrong  with  the  government, 
the  court,  and  even  the  Church,  and  that  he  and  his  comrade* 
were  called  upon  to  put  everything  right  by  turning  tiie  universe 
upside  down.  Richard's  gibing  caused  him  to  regard  the  young 
man  as  an  exceedingly  dangerous  conspirator,  who  with  ready 
wit  and  glib  speech  could  deceive  all  who  were  brought  into 
contact  with  him. 

"  Keep  a  good  watch  upon  that  royalist  traitor,"  he  said, 
audibly,  to  hie  companions;  "he  must  be  put  out  of  the  way  of 
mischief  as  speedily  as  possible  " 

And  so  saying,  he  walked  on  ahead,  with  dignity,  keeping 
as  far  as  poss'ble  out  of  range  of  Richard's  wit,  while  he  fixed 
his  cocked  hat,  with  its  tricolor  cockade,  securely  on  his  head 


TBM  AJtHMIT  Or  RICHARD  OOfLtUtl.  M 

with  the  lir  of  «  roan  of  detmniDition.  All  tt  onn  Richird'i 
dirk  face  underwent  a  feritable  trantfonnation.  He  law  Mon- 
ricur  Gaiton,  the  beloved  jroung  Count,  advancing  towtrd  him. 
The  latter  had  been  at  early  Mam  in  the  village  church,  and  be- 
held, with  aitonithment,  Duplewii  in  the  hands  of  the  Marat 


"My  Ood !  Richard, what  ia  thii?"  he  cried,inaking  a  few  haity 
strides  toward  his  friend,  whom  the  captors  would  have  hurried 
on.  Count  Gaston  bade  them  stand  still  by  a  gesture.  Richard 
Kaluted  the  young  gentleman  with  a  respect  which  in  no  way 
drtracted  from  the  pride  and  affection  which  glowed  in  bis  face. 
He  replied  to  the  Count's  inquiry  by  a  jest. 

"It  is  only.  Monsieur  le  Comte,"  he  said,  "that  I  have  a 
pressing  invitation  to  visit  the  Clock  Tower  dungeon  from  yonder 
gentleman,  who  seems  to  have  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  the 
place." 

"•And  who  are  yon  that  dares  to  interrupt  the  members  of 
the  Marat  Corps  in  the  discharge  of  their  duty?"  cried  the 
pompons  individual  who  acted  as  leader,  cocking  his  hat  at  the 
Count  in  a  manner  which  caused  him  to  resemble  an  enraged 
turkey-gobbler. 

"  I,  sir,  am  Count  Gaston  de  la  Roche  Andr6,"  said  the  young 
man,  speaking  with  that  charm  of  manner  and  accent  distinctive 
of  his  caste;  "and  may  I  inquire,  in  turn,  why  you  have  seen 
fit  to  arrest  my  friend.  Monsieur  Duplessis,  in  so  unceremonious 
a  fashion  ?  " 

"  Unceremonious  I "  cried  the  official,  slapping  his  breast.  "  I'd 
have  you  to  know.  Citizen  Boche  Andr*,  since  that  is  your  name, 
that  there  has  been  ceremony  enough." 

He  was,  in  truth,  a  little  flustered  nt  being  brought  into  con- 
tact with  a  member  of  that  illustrious  house,  whose  splendor  had 


«  TBS  ARMBT   Or   RICHARD   DVPLES8I8. 

cart  a  halo  over  his  youthful  dreams.  But  this  only  made  him 
fluster  the  more,  especially  as  his  comrades  were  looking  on. 

"I,  Citizen,  am  an  officer  in  the  Marat  Corps,  a  body  of  men 
who  have  sworn  death  to  all  royalists,  fanatics,  monks,  and  other 
enemies  of  the  HepubUe.  I  am  an  official  of  the  National  Ven- 
geance  Office.    I—" 

"Enough,  sir,"  said  Gaston,  with  a  gleam  of  humor  in  his 
dark  eyes.    "  Any  of  those  titles  is  sufficient  for  me." 

"  And  I  am  supported  by  two  honest  mna  mlottu,  members 
of  the  same  corps,"  continued  the  man,  in  the  same  pompous  tone 
of  declamation. 

"All  that  does  not  explain  why  you  have  seized  upon  my 
friend." 

"Then,  perhaps,  this  warrant  will,"  the  man  cried,  producing 
that  document,  which  he  held  out  at  arm's  length. 

The  Count,  with  pale  face  and  quivering  lip,  saw,  indeed, 
upon  it  the  long  familiar  name  of  the  playmate  of  his  boyhood, 
the  devoted  adherent  of  his  house,  Richard  Marie  Duplessis. 

"  But  with  what  is  he  charged  ?  "  he  asked,  desperately,  thon^ 
he  knew,  indeed,  that  the  particular  nature  of  the  accusation  mat- 
tered little. 

"Read,  Citizen,  read!"  said  the  Marat  man,  thrusting  the 
paper  cloee  to  the  eyes  of  the  Ccunt. 

"Take  it  away!"  cried  Gaston,  impetuously.  "I  will  not 
read  those  unmeaning  and  long-winded  tirades  by  which  you 
men  of  the  new  order  swear  away  the  lives  of  the  noblest  and  the 
beet.    It  is  war  of  the  eanaaie  upon  all  that  is  sacred." 

"  Citizen,"  said  the  official,  growing  very  red  in  the  face,  "you 
talk  like  a  traitor.    I  warn  you  to  have  a  care." 

"A  cart  of  what?"  cried  Gaston,  scornfully;  "of  my  life, 
which  belongs  to  our  deposed  King,  God  bless  him?" 


TSa  AKKXBT  OF  RICBABD  DaPhBBBlB.  n 

"  Amen ! "  cried  Bicbard,  Btriving  to  reach  his  hat,  but,  real- 
izing that  his  bands  were  tied,  he  let  them  fall  with  a  melancholy 
smile. 

"I  can  not  wave  my  hat,  Monsieur  Gaston,"  he  said,  "but 
you  know  how  I  would  wave  it  if  I  could,  raying,  '  Long  live  his 
Majesty  and  our  beautiful  Queen ! '  " 

"  I  will  do  it  for  as  both,"  cried  Gaston,  snatching  oft  hii 
bat,  which  be  swung  into  the  air  with  a  gesture  at  once  boyish 
and  graceful. 

"  Long  live  Louis  the  Good  I "  he  cried,  "  and  onr  sorereign 
lady,  the  Queen.  May  God  confound  their  enemies  and  strengthen 
tbeir  friends ! " 

The  cheer  whicb  'le  raised  was  joined  in  heartily  by  Bicbard, 
who  observed ; 

"They  have  not  yet  chained  my  tongue!"  And  bis  face 
reflected  the  generous  glow  of  youth  and  loyalty  which  he  saw 
upon  the  countenance  of  bis  friend. 

The  cheer  which  rose  and  fell,  dying  away  over  the  marsh 
lands  in  rippling  cadences,  not  only  aroused  the  indignation  of 
the  Marat  men,  but  tbeir  alarm  as  well.  For  the  vilUge 
was  notoriously  in  sympathy  with  the  brigands,  and  should  Count 
Gaston  succeed  in  procuring  aid  before  the  prisoner  was 
removed,  a  rescue  would  be  imminent.  And  this  was  pre- 
cisely the  same  thought  which  was  occupying  Count  Gaston's 
mind. 

He  had  seen  Duplessis  in  the  hands  of  his  enemies,  and  with 
characteristic  impetuosity  had  rushed  toward  him  alone.  Now 
be  regretted  from  the  bottom  of  his  heart  that  be  had  not  brought 
with  him  a  sufficient  number  of  bis  servants  and  retainers  to 
overpower  the  ruffians  and  set  Richard  free.  As  it  was,  he  and 
Hi^ard  were  both  unarmed,  the  latter  being,  besides,  manacled. 


TBS   A.RIIXBT   OF   BICHARD   DVPLSBBI8. 


Kesistance  would  be  futile,  and  be  might  only  throw  away  in  this 
vain  effort  a  life  which  might  hereafter  be  useful  even  to  Richard 
himself. 

"How  mad  I  hare  been,  Richard,"  he  said;  and  Duplessis, 
as  if  divining  the  outspoken  thought,  said : 

"Better  as  it  is.  Monsieur  Oaston.  Think  of  the  ruin  yon 
might  have  brought  on  the  chateau,  on  your  revered  parents,  and 
on  another,  and  all  in  vain." 

"  I  suppone  you  are  right,"  said  Gaston ;  "  but  I  can  not  bear 
to  see  you  being  carried  away  thus  under  our  very  eyes.  I  will  go, 
too,  and,  at  least,  stand  side  by  side  with  you,  and  lend  you  what 
influence  may  still  be  attached  to  my  name." 

"No,  Monsieur  Gaston;  no;  a  thousand  times,  no  I"  cried 
Richard.  "  You  can  help  me  most  by  making  good  your  escape. 
Leave  Saint  Lyphar  at  once,  this  very  day,  and  proceed  to  where 
you  will  be  in  safety." 

The  official,  seeing  them  exchanging  these  few  words  in  a  low 
tone,  would  have  separated  them,  and  motioned  his  companions 
to  force  Richard  on.  But  the  latter,  by  a  fierce  movement, 
freed  himself  an  instant. 

"If  you  should  be  in  danger,"  he  whispered,  "let  Jambe 
d' Argent  know  of  it." 

The  words  were  breathed  into  the  ear  of  the  Count,  and  the 
face  of  the  latter  at  once  lighted  up  with  intelligence. 

"  He  shall  hear  of  this  morning's  work,"  he  answered,  in 
the  same  breathless  whisper. 

"  Do  your  duty ! "  cried  the  leader  of  the  Marat  m'^n  to  his 
subordinates,  and  in  his  anxiety  to  have  his  orders  obeyed,  he 
laid  his  hand  on  the  young  Count's  arm.  Gaston  shook  it  off 
with  a  gesture  full  of  scorn,  and  he,  who  was  usually  so  affable 
to  his  inferiors,  so  simple  in  his  demeanor,  emphasized  his  disgust 


TBB  ARBSBT   OF   RIOHAJtD   DVPLKBBIB. 


u 


by  delicately  wiping  bis  sleeve  with  a  Uce  handkerchief,  which 
he  snatched  from  his  pocket. 

"  Beware  how  you  lay  those  polluted  hands  on  a  gentleman  I " 
he  cried.    "  I,  at  least,  am  not  your  prisoner." 

The  subordinates  exchanged  glances.    Richard  laughed. 

"  And  now,  my  men,"  he  said, "  do  the  bidding  of  your  ma  iter, 
who  seems  anxious  to  show  me  his  former  residence  in  the  dun- 
geon of  the  Clock  Tower." 

Bursting  with  rage,  the  Marat  man  marched  on,  turning  to 
shake  his  fist  after  the  Count. 

"  Vile  aristocrat,"  he  said ;  "  you  are  not  the  first  gentleman 
1  have  laid  hands  on,  nor  you  won't  be  the  last.  Some  of 
these  days  1  shall  drag  you,  too,  away  to  the  dungeons." 

He  cast  looks  of  spite  and  rage  at  his  prisoner,  whom  he 
would  '-ke  to  hare  annihilated.  For  his  smiling  unconcern  as  to 
his  own  fate  and  his  open  crntempt  of  his  captors  were  gall  and 
wormwood  to  the  vanity  of  a  man  puHed  up  by  his  little  brief 
authority. 

"  Adieu,  Monsieur  Gaston ! "  called  out  Richard  at  a  turning 
of  the  road,  casting  a  last  look  of  love  and  gratitude  toward  the 
young  Count,  who  still  stood  gazing  after  him,  "  Heaven  keep 
you,  and  if  we  never  meet  again,  you  know  what  messages  I  would 
like  to  send." 

"I  know!"  cried  the  Count,  "and  they  shall  be  faithfully 
given.  But  keep  up  your  heart,  for  we  shall  meet  again,  and 
happily." 


m   TEH  PABlsOR   OF    TBS   RBD   INK. 


CHAPTER  V. 

IN  THE  FARLOB  OF  THE  BED  IlOr. 

The  men  assembled  at  the  Ked  Inn  on  the  night  following 
the  arrest  of  Hichwd  Duplessis  talked  in  hushed  whispers  of  the 
events  that  were  taking  pJa,  e  in  the  land,  but  especially  of  this 
latest  act  of  that  dreaded  tribunal  at  Nantes.  If  such  an  arrest 
could  be  made  in  the  very  shadow  of  the  chateau,  and  in  the  very 
face  of  the  Marquis  and  Count  Gaston,  whom  mi^t  not  Carrier 
«e  fit  to  imprison  ?  Of  course,  the  conversation  turned  upon  the 
war.  Many  of  those  present  had  already  pledged  themselves  to 
follow  Count  Gaston  and  his  lieutenant,  and  even  should  these 
leaders  be  snatched  from  them,  they  were,  nevertheless,  resolved 
to  take  their  stand  in  the  ranks  of  the  Catholic  and  royal  army. 

"This  war  has  been  foretoli  my  children."  said  an  old  man, 
who  was  crouching  in  the  chimney  comer. 

"  How  is  that,  P4re  Michel  ? "  cried  a  score  of  voices. 
"Why,  do  you  not  know?"  eicUimed  the  old  nun.  "My 
father,  may  his  soul  rest  in  peace,  told  me  often  that  when  the 
Blessed  Father  Grignon  de  Montfort  came  with  his  missionaries 
to  preach  at  Bressuire,  a  century  and  a  half  ago,  in  the  lifetime 
of  my  grandfather,  God  rest  him,  he  stood  at  the  foot  of  a 
Calvary,  and  cried  out  with  a  terrible  voice." 

The  old  man's  voice  was  low  and  feeble,  and  the  men,  who 
had  been  playing  cards  at  the  table,  dropped  them,  and  those  who 
.ere  smoking  took  the  pipes  from  their  mouth  and  drew  near  to 
listen. 


m   THE   PASLOB   OP   THE   RED   lyy. 


"  He  cried  out,"  repeated  the  old  man,  " '  Brethren,  one  day, 
tirod,  for  the  pimishment  of  sinners,  shall  send  into  this 
region  a  horrible  war !  * " 

Some  of  the  men  crossed  themselves;  others  murmured  the 
name  of  God,  of  His  holy  Mother,  or  of  the  patron  saints  of 
Brittany. 

Blood  shall  be  shed,' "  cried  the  venerable  speaker,  raising 
his  voice  as  he  repeated  ;hc  ominous  words  of  the  holy  preacher 
till  he,  too,  seemed  like  some  old-time  prophet— "' Blood  shall 
be  shed,'  so  said  the  saint,  '  men  shall  be  slain,  the  whole  country 
shall  be  ravaged !  These  things  shall  come  to  pass  when  my  cross 
is  covered  with  moss.' 

"And,"  said  the  old  man,  drawing  his  hearers  together  as 
with  a  gesture,  "  the  cross  of  the  Blessed  Grignon,  which  stands 
at  Breseuire,  is  this  year  entirely  covered  with  moss  I " 

There  was  a  dead  and  awful  pause.  A  storm  was  rising  with- 
out, the  November  wind  shrieking,  as  it  flew  past  the  inn,  like 
the  voices  of  the  dead  coming  back  with  fearful  warnings,  those 
dead,  or  those  soon  to  be  slain.  The  bravest  of  the  men  shivered, 
involuntarily  drawing  closer  together  with  pale  faces.  It  seemed 
as  if  in  that  moment  they  felt  their  country's  doom  upon  them. 

And  in  this  moment  of  terror  there  was  a  loud  knocking  at 
the  door.  Erminie  ran  to  open  it.  A  man  stood  without,  who 
hurriedly  whispered  to  her  some  words.  She  covered  her  face 
with  her  hands  and  stood  for  an  instant  horror-stricken.  Then 
she  entered  the  inn  parlor  and  announced  in  a  low,  trembling 
voice  the  arrest  of  Count  Gaston  de  la  Roche  Andr^ 

The  men  sprang  to  their  feet  with  one  accord,  a  storm  of 
execration,  of  pity,  breaking  from  them.  With  one  voice  they 
cried  out : 

"How  can  this  be  possible?    Hero,  in  this  very  village  of 


«  IN   TBS   PARLOR   OF   THB   RED   IXK. 

Saint  Lyph«r,  with  hundreds  of  true  hearts,  who  would  hare 
died  for  him  I " 

The  messenger,  who  was  none  other  than  Henriot,  the  valet, 
now  followed  Erminie  into  the  room  and  was  besieged  by  a 
storm  of  questions.  He  was  pale,  trembling,  grief-stricken.  He 
only  knew  that  Gaston  had  been  secretly  arrested  when  on  his 
way  to  the  camp  at  Grand  Bordage  and  carried  off  to  Nantes. 
Henriot  was  too  much  overcome  by  emotion  to  enter  into  further 
details,  if,  indeed,  such  details  were  known  to  him.  He  waa,  more- 
over, hastening  on  a  secret  mission,  the  nature  of  which  he  would 
not  disclose,  and  had  only  paused  to  tell  the  news  at  the  inn 
and  to  relight  his  lantern,  which  had  gone  out.  The  men  were 
left  helpless,  astounded,  panic  struck. 

"It  is  time!"  cried  one.  "We  must  take  up  arms,  and 
delay  not  a  moment  longer." 

"Yes,"  cried  the  others,  "yes;  even  though  our  brave  leaders 
are  taken  from  us,  we  must  hasten  to  the  camp  of  Jambe 
d'Argent." 

"And  God's  blessing  go  with  you,  brave  lads  I"  cried  P6re 
Michel,  from  his  station  at  the  hearth.  "  Oh,  that  these  palsied 
limbs  could  march  in  those  glorious  ranks !  Oh,  that  this  withered 
arm  could  strike  one  blow  for  God  and  our  King!  Wo  to  me, 
my  children,  that  it  is  not  so.  But  my  lips  can  repeat  the 
Rosary,  I  can  hear  Mass,  I  can  pray  to  God  unceasingly,  for  those 
who  fight.    Go,  my  children,  go,  in  the  name  of  God." 

"In  the  name  of  God!"  cried  the  men,  "that  is  the  cry, 
father.  They  tell  us  that  the  men  who  followed  the  brave  gen- 
tlemen, Larochejaquelein,  Uscuri,  Bonchamp,  d'Elb^e,  went 
to  battle  in  God's  name  with  rosary  and  scapular,  and  that  the 
hosts  of  Cathelineau,  who  is  but  a  peasant  like  us,  and  of  Stofflet 
and  Charette,  stopped  in  the  midst  of  battle  to  pray,  and  set  out 


W    THt  PAKIMR   OF   TBt   KKD   mS. 


like  CHirirtians  from  their  homes.     So  shall  we,  father,  bo  ahill 
we." 

It  was  like  a  battle  cry,  and  the  enthusiasm  on  the  rugged 
faces  of  the  peasants  was  as  a  light  from  within. 

"  And  we  at  home,  like  P4re  Michel,  shall  pray  for  you  and 
ask  God  to  bless  your  arms,"  said  Erminie,  with  a  suli  in  her  voice. 

"  Jambe  d'Argent  shall  release  our  leaders,  and  Ii  ad  and  give 
us  back  our  beloved  young  Count  and  Duplessis,  his  lieutenant," 
said  a  tall  man,  who  was  known  as  the  strongest  in  the  village. 

"Yes,  yes;  Jambe  d'Argent  shall  lead  us  to  victory!"  cried 
the  whole  assembly.    "  He  is  the  wonderful  leader." 

"They  say,"  ventured  another  timidly,  "that  he  is  not  a 
mortal  like  us,  but  has  come  from  another  world  to  help  the 
Bretons." 

"Oh,  it  is  said,"  repeated  P4re  Michel,  "but  we  need  not 
credit  all  we  hear,  my  children.  There  are  some  who  declare 
that  it  is  the  Duke  d'Enghien  and  the  Count  d'Artois  himself." 

"  Ah ! "  cried  the  peasants,  with  awe  in  their  voices. 

"  That  may  or  may  not  be,"  said  Michel,  shaking  his  reverend 
head.  "  God  knows  that  and  all  things,  but  it  is  certain  that  he 
is  a  brave  man,  and  one  who  can  lead.  Our  own  good  priests, 
too,  not  those  from  Paris,  the  new  kind,  have  confidence  in  him, 
and  that  is  enough  for  me." 

"  Yes ;  that  is  enough,"  agreed,  the  others.  "  Oar  curia  know 
what  is  best." 

"  Ah,  if  tbey  had  not  been  taken  away  from  ua,"  lamented 
Erminie. 

"  We  shall  have  them  back  I "  cried  all  the  men  in  chorus. 

"Yes,  children,  we  shall  have  them  back,"  declared  P4re 
Michel.  "  And  now  I  shall  give  you  my  blessing,  and  you  shall 
go  with  the  morrow's  light." 


•  IN   TBB   PARLOR   OF    THB   RgD   iny. 

This  Michel  was  regarded  as  a  saint,  though  he  followed 
the  profession  of  beggar,  and  sat  by  the  wall  of  the  church  with 
his  tin  eup  outstretched  and  his  dog  beside  him.  His  poverty 
was,  to  some  extent,  voluntary,  for  the  Marquis  would  long  ago 
have  provided  for  him,  but  in  a  spirit  of  penance  and  through 
humility,  he  preferred  to  beg  the  trifling  alms  which  sustained 
him  from  day  to  day.  His  speech  was  that  of  an  educated  man, 
and  it  was  believed  that  he  had  seen  better  days  in  the  remote 
district  froin  which  he  had  come. 

On  the  morning  following  the  scene  at  the  inn,  when  news 
had  arrived  of  the  arrest  of  Gaston  de  la  Roche  Andr«,  Michel 
sat  in  his  customary  place,  near  the  wall  of  the  church,  with  the 
sunshine  streaming  all  about  as  a  benediction.  Presently  the 
Marquis  de  la  Boche  Andre,  with  Madame,  his  wife,  appeared 
at  the  door  of  the  church.  They  were  proceeding  thither  to  lay 
their  sorrows  before  the  tabernacle.  Both  were  grief-stricken 
and  prematurely  aged. 

"  We  must  not  forget  Michel,  this  morning,"  said  the  lady. 
"Almsgiving  touches  the  heart  of  God,  and  the  prayer  of  the 
poor  is  all-powerful  at  the  throne  of  grace." 

"  Tee,  my  wife,"  said  the  Marquis,  "  and  Michel  is  truly  the 
servant  of  God.  His  rags  are  greater  in  God's  sight  than  the 
purple  of  the  rich." 

It  was  only  when  the  couple  stood  directly  in  front  of  him 
that  the  old  man  raised  his  eyes: 

"Madame  la  Marquise,"  said  he,  "sorrow  has  touched  you, 
who  have  healed  so  m  my  sorrows.  It  is  a  divine  gift,  but  heavy 
for  human  shoulders." 

"  You  will  pray  for  us  and  for  our  deaf  one,"  said  Madame, 
in  a  scarcely  audible  voice. 

"I  will  pray.     I  have  already  prayed.     Before  the  dawn  I 


n>  rat  parlor  of  tbs  red  ikji. 


«u  in  the  church,  and  1  told  the  good  Qod  He  muat  give  iu  back 
our  beloved  Count  Gaston." 

The  Marquis  dropped  a  liberal  alms  into  the  tin  cup. 

"  If  you  would  but  let  us  place  you  above  want  1 "  he  said — 
"  you  who  bring  us  so  many  blessings  and  help  us  in  our  sorrows  by 
your  prayers." 

"  But  how,  then,  should  I  get  to  heaven  ?  "  cried  the  old  man 
in  alarm.  "  I  am  too  old  to  work.  My  health  is  good.  I  do  not 
suffer.    1  must  do  penance." 

"Would  that  we  all  did  mote,"  cried  the  Marquis;  "this 
unhappy  country  might  not  now  be  feeling  the  chastisement 
of  Qod." 

"Yes;  that  is  it.  Monsieur  Ic  Marquis;  the  chastisement  of 
God,"  assented  Michel.  "  For  the  Blessed  Grignon  foretold  it, 
and  his  cross  is  now  covered  with  moss." 

"  It  is  God's  hour,  and  we  must  submit  to  Hie  will,"  said 
the  Marquis. 

"  But,  oh,  our  hearts  are  breaking !  "  said  Madame.  "  Think 
of  my  noble  young  Gaston,  my  son,  my  first  bom." 

"  Madame,"  said  the  old  beggar,  raising  his  head  suddenly, 
and  pointing  with  a  gesture  full  of  strange  solemnity,  "that 
cloud,  which  has  rested  darkly  upon  the  chateau,  since  the  early 
morning,  is  passing  away.    Behold !  " 

The  Marquis  and  his  wife  turned  involuntarily  and  beheld  a 
dark  mass  of  cloud  rolling  away  southward,  and  leaving  in  its 
stead  a  flood  of  golden  sunshine  which  bathed  the  towers  and 
walls  of  La  Roche  Andr6. 

"  Your  son  will  be  restored  to  you,"  the  old  man  cried.  "  I 
see,  1  feel  it.  You  have  been  the  protectors  and  lovers  of  your 
people.  None  were  too  humble  to  escape  your  solicitude.  In 
their  miseries  they  turned  to  you,  in  prosperity  you  rejoiced 


IN    THB   PARLOH    OF    TBM   KtD   IK2>. 


with  them.  Therefore,  God  will  watch  over  your  beloved  ton, 
•n<l  St.  Anne  and  St.  Yves,  patron  of  Bretons,  will  make  in- 
tcrwuHinn  for  him  at  the  throne  of  Ood." 

"  Michel  I "  cried  the  la<ly,  "  you  have  brought  warmth  and 
comfort  to  my  heart,  which  was  cold  and  dead  within  me.  God 
bleea  you  for  it,  and  reward  you  in  His  Itingdom." 

"  Amen,"  raid  the  Harquia,  raising  his  hat  reverently.  Then, 
bending  his  noble  head,  he  added,  solemnly :  "  Your  bleaaing, 
Pin  Hichel.    It  will  strengthen  us  in  the  hour  of  trial." 

To  the  mobs  howling  after  equality  and  fraternity  in  the 
streets  of  Paris,  it  would  have  been  an  object  lesson  in  true  fra- 
ternity and  true  equality,  that  of  the  children  of  Ood,  to  behold  thia 
couple,  nobly  descended  and  belonging  to  one  of  the  proudest 
families  of  France,  humbly  bending  their  heads  for  the  blessing 
of  a  beggar,  while  he,  in  his  turn,  with  neither  rancor  nor  envy, 
bestowed  upon  them  that  precious  gift. 

"  Because  I  am  old  and  because  I  am  poor,"  he  said,  "  Ood 
will,  in  His  goodness,  hear  me,  and  I  ask  Him  to  pour  down 
His  blessings  upon  you  both  and  repay  to  you  a  hundredfold  all 
you  have  done  for  His  poor,  and  to  bless  your  sons,  and  to  give 
back  to  you  unharmed  him  who  lies  in  prison,  and  that  other 
who  has  gone  to  the  field." 

The  Marquis  and  his  wife  passed  on  into  the  chureh,  deeply 
moved,  and  the  beggar,  left  to  himself,  rejoicing  in  the  warmth 
of  the  sun,  stroked  affectionately  the  head  of  his  dog,  as  that 
animal  nestled  close  to  him,  and  seemed  to  understand  hia 
caressing  words.  This  poor  beast  was  Michel's  guide  through 
many  a  storm,  and  his  protection  in  the  humble  hut  at  the  very 
outskirts  of  the  village,  where  he  had  his  abode. 

Meanwhile,  at  Nantes,  Morin-Preminn  paced  his  apartments, 
full  of  a  savage  joy.    He  repeated  over  and  over  to  himself : 


IV    THt   PAJtLOR   or   TBt   RED   rXV. 


"  I  have  them  both  I    DuplcMii,  how  I  hate  Daplewit  I '' 
He  drew  in  a  deep  breath,  while  the  force  and  inteniitjr  of  that 
hatred  whitened  the  man'i  face  to  livid  paWnces,  and  drew  hi* 
month  into  tenie  line*. 

"  And  the  young  cockatoo  of  nobility,"  he  added,  "  who  has 
crowed  no  loud  all  these  year*,  riding  about  on  his  horse  through 
the  village  streets  and  tossing  pcnuiis  to  mn,  the  swineherd. 
Once  he  struck  me  a  blow.  I  had  got  Duplessis  down  and  a 
friend  of  mine,  a  scullion  froni  .he  castle,  was  holding  hira  while 
1  pounded.  Oh,  it  was  a  happy  moment,  for  the  fellow  had  so 
often  beaten  me  in  stand  up  fights  on  the  village  green.  But 
this  Count,  this  Gaston,  chancing  to  pass  by,  rushed  upon  me 
and  dragged  me  up  from  Duplespis.  Once  I  was  up,  he  struck  me 
a  blow  which  threw  me  down  again,  calling  me  coward  and 
bully.  That  blow  burned  and  burned,  those  words  rang  in  my 
ears,  till  yesterday,  when  I  saw  him  brought  in  a  prisoner.  His 
blood  shall  wipe  out  the  blow  and  the  insult.  And  as  for 
Dnpleasis,  he  shall  not  die  too  quickly.  My  score  against  him 
has  risen  so  high.  There  shall  be  torture  and  delay  and  con- 
finement in  the  fearful  Clock  Tower,  and  I  sha!'  go  to  visit  him, 
and  shall  talk  of  Jeanne,  yes,  of  Jeanne  I " 
He  laughed  with  a  malice  truly  diabolical. 
"  Oh,  I  shall  be  the  good  Samaritan.  I  shall  speak  to  him 
of  his  sweetheart  and  tell  him  to  havu  no  fear,  for  that  I,  Morin- 
Premion,  will  care  for  her.  And  then,  there  will  be  death  at 
the  end  of  it  all,  and  I  shall  stand  at  the  foot  of  the  guillotine 
and  see  the  knife  fall  and  the  head  be  raised  and  shown  to  the 
populace.    But  what  is  that?" 

He  paused  and  listened.     It  was  the  i-ound  of  drums  in  the 
street. 

"I  remember,"  he  cried,  exultantly,  "it  is  my  messenger. 


7t 


m  ran  paklom  or  tbm  kkd  ikv. 


"  Ht  goM  into  erery  qiurtcr  of  the  town  to  uinounce  the  amet 
of  that  pMtilent  royellrt,  Boehe  Andrt,  ud  w  rtrike  terror 
into  the  iriatocrati.  I  wrote  out  hit  proclamition  for  him,  and 
above  all  I  bade  him  go  where  the  women  aMemble  in  the  market 
place,  and  there  beat  hi>  drum  the  loudeat  and  tell  hia  tale. 
Oh,  I  have  made  out  this  Hoche  Andr«  to  be  a  monrter.  How  the 
women  will  grimace  when  they  hear  that  ho  «4  babie.  up  for 
targeta  and  shot  them  for  pr«cti.e,  while  he  tied  up  the  mothera 
near  by  to  watch  the  .port.  They  will  be  ready  to  tear  him  into 
pieces  by  the  time  he  i»  brought  to  trial." 

He  laughed  aloud  again,  a  laugh  which  sounded  hollow  and 
unnatural,  echoed  through  the  high  ceilinged  room. 

"  Oh,  lying,  how  great  is  thy  power,  and  how  much  it  has  helped 
the  friends  of  freedom.  This  Oaston,  how  it  sickened  me  to  hear 
the  women  of  Saint  Lyphar  praise  him.  He  wanted  the  empty 
bauble  of  popularity,  that  was  all." 

He  paced  the  room,  still  at  the  fever  heat  of  his  conflicting  pas- 
sions, till  the  day  wore  on  and  the  pale  sunshine  of  the  November 
day  began  to  darken.  A  step  was  heard  upon  the  stairs  outside, 
and  there  was  a  knocking  at  the  door.  Premion  hastened  to  open 
it,  saying: 

"  It  is  my  messenger  back.  Now  I  shall  hear  how  the  women 
of  Nantes  have  received  my  budget  of  lies  1 " 

The  wretch  who  now  appeared  had  visible  signs  of  agitation 
about  him.  His  dross  was  disordered,  his  red  cap  awry,  his  face 
livid  with  terror. 

"Ho!"  cried  Premion,  "what  has  happened?"    And  as  he 
spoke,  he  regarded  the  messenger  with  some  anxiety. 
"  The  women ! "  gasped  the  youth. 
"Well,  what  nf  them?" 
"At  first  they  heard  what  I  had  to  tell,  and  I  think  at  first 


l»   TBM  fAKlOR  or   TEB  HMD  tSU. 


i*v^'f.uili^ 


they  might  h»ve  believed  it,  but  thit  one  in  the  crowd  itood  forth 
ind  told  them  I  wu  lying,  and  that  thv  wbh  from  Saint  Lrphar, 
•nd  could  prove  it." 

Premion  iprang  to  bin  feet  with  a  fearful  oath. 

"Who  wa«»he?"  he  cried. 

"  Some  laid  her  name  waa  Jeanne," 

"  Jeanne  Dumartin  1 "  cried  Premion, 
awfully. 

"Wai  the  yonng?    Speak,  before  1  throi;  .    -on.' 

"She  wa«  young  and  old,  lioth,"  tli-  rill.iw  'iilie.'..  "  llir 
face  aeemed  young,  but  «he  was  dressed  Iiki'  un    ;.l  wo>niia." 

"  She  must  be  taken  at  once,  at  once !  "  cried  PrcniiDH,  fi  nling 
up  and  down  the  room.  "She  is  in  disguise,  an!  lias  followed 
Duplessis  here.  But  what  did  the  women  do,  then  ?  "  he  asked, 
pausing  abruptly  in  front  of  his  messenger. 

"There  was  one  who  supported  this  Jeanne,  and  said  that 
she,  too,  had  once  known  Saint  Lyphar,  and  that  the  young 
Count  was  the  friend  of  the  people.  Then  all  the  others  fell 
upon  me  and  beat  me,  and  I  had  hard  work  to  escape  with  a  whole 
skin.  They  said  lying  scoundrels  could  no  longer  impose  upon 
the  people." 

Premion  walked  up  and  down  in  deep  and  somber  mediation. 

"  I  must  and  will  And  this  Jeanne,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  and 
then  a  civil  marriage  at  the  Mairie  will  put  her  forever  out  of 
Duplessis's  reach." 

He  seized  his  hat  and  coat  and  rushed  out,  bidding  the  mes- 
senger await  him  there.  Like  a  madman  he  rushed  from  street 
to  street.  For  the  passion  of  his  life  seemed  suddenly  to  con- 
centrate in  a  glowing  heat.  His  love  for  Jeanne,  if  it  could  be 
called  love,  so  fierce  and  terrible  was  it,  and  the  sweet  morsel  of 
revenge  which  would  be  his  when  he  could  tell  Richard  Duplessis 


'♦  W    TSW   PARLOn   or    THE   RED   INN. 

that  Jeanne  Dumartin  waa  his  wife.  These  things  urged  him, 
as  the  lash  of  scorpions.  His  hate  for  Count  Gaston  partook  more 
of  the  nature  of  ordinary  class  hatred;  but  his  hatred  for 
Duplessis  burned  and  boiled  up  within  him  like  the  hidden  forces 
of  a  volcano.  Those  who  saw  him  pass  fancied  that  he  was 
crazed,  and  so  he  was  for  the  moment  by  the  thought  of  possible 
victory  near  at  hand,  auci  of  the  chance  which  might  not  only 
hinder  that  triumph,  but  in  some  unforeseen  manner  save 
Duplessis. 


A   XIOHT   or   aUBPBNaB  A.T    THE   CHATEAU.  75 


CHAPTEB  VI. 


A  NIOHT  or  8D8PENSK  AT  THE  CHATEAD. 

Henbiot  had  been  despatched  on  a  secret  mission,  which  was 
to  find,  if  possible,  at  one  of  his  numerous  haunts,  the  mysterious 
being  known  as  Jambe  d'Argent,  and  to  acquaint  him  with  the 
arrest  of  Bichard  Duplessis  and  Count  Gaston  de  la  Roche  Andii. 
This  faithful  valet,  who  was  of  that  old  race  which  would  go 
through  fire  and  water  for  the  masters  whom  they  served,  had  had 
a  long  and  weary  journey  throuj^  the  marshes  which  extend 
from  Saint  Hilaire  de  Kioz  to  the  Isle  of  Bouin.  The  dawn  was 
whitening  all  the  landscape  when,  worn  and  weary,  Henriot  came 
within  sight  of  the  chateau.  Despite  his  exhaustion,  he  still 
maintained  as  swift  a  pace  as  possible,  knowing  well  the  anxious 
hearts  that  awaited  his  coming.  He  wore,  instead  of  the  castle 
livery,  the  ordinary  peasant  costume  of  brown  wool,  with  a  cap 
upon  his  head.  The  castle  lay  still  and  cold  in  the  desolation 
of  the  morning,  which  weighs  so  heavily  upon  the  spirits  of  the 
living,  when  they  watch  beside  the  sick  or  kneel  at  the  bier  of  the 
lately  departed. 

The  walls  gleamed  with  an  unearthly  whiteness,  and  the  win- 
dows, like  staring  eyes,  overlooked  the  dreary  landscape.  The 
road  leading  up  to  the  chateau  was  both  hilly  and  stony,  passing 
by  the  great  rock  whence  the  castle  and  the  family  alike  took 
their  name.  The  family,  indeed,  had  dwelt  there  since  imme- 
morial time,  and  had  taken  its  share  in  all  the  vicissitudes  of  the 
nation's  history,  yet,  for  the  moat  part,  living  a  calm  and  patri- 


7« 


A   maST   OF   BVSPBXaB   A.T   TBE   CHATBAV. 


arehal  life.  The  eons  of  the  Tarious  generations  had  gone  suc- 
cessively to  flght  for  king  and  country  on  foreign  baHleflelds, 
or  had  sat  in  legislative  halls,  while  the  daughters  of  Boche  Andr«, 
being  noted  for  grace  and  beauty,  had  frequently  made  dis- 
tinguished marriages.  The  family  had  consequently  allied  itself 
with  some  of  the  proudest  houses  of  France,  and  its  claim  was 
undisputed  to  a  foremost  rank  among  those  of  the  old  order, 
that  splendid  and  brilliant  nobility,  soon  to  be  no  more. 

Within  the  castle  it  had  been  a  night  of  agonizing  suspense. 
Consternation  sat  upon  the  faces  of  the  servants  and  retainers. 
The  power  of  that  house,  which  they  had  regarded  with  almost 
superstitious  veneration,  and  whidi  they  had  supposed  to  be 
as  impregnable  as  royalty  itself,  had  been  dealt  a  fearful  blow. 
Moreover,  the  young  Count  himself  was  sincerely  and  universally 
beloved.  The  old  servants  who  had  known  him  as  a  handsome 
and  generous  boy,  the  young  ones  who  had  grown  up  with  him 
and  been  in  a  sense  his  companions  and  playmates,  were  alike 
inconsolable.  They  could  not  reconcile  themselves  to  the  sudden 
sense  of  loss,  the  fear  that  was  in  all  hearts  of  being  deprived  of 
that  beloved  presence  forever. 

The  Marquise  knelt  in  her  oratory,  praying  and  weeping,  or 
sat  beside  the  Marquis  in  a  silent  agony  of  grief.  Her  high 
spirits,  the  light-hearted  gaiety  which,  preserving  the  childhood 
of  the  heart,  had  made  her  so  charming  a  companion  for  her 
young  sons  and  their  associates  and  so  enlivening  a  one  for  her 
somewhat  serious  and  taciturn  husband,  had  now  completely 
deserted  her.  It  is  true  that  she  met  misfortune  with  a  calmness 
and  dignity  inherent  to  her  nobility  of  character.  She  made  no 
noisy  demonstration  of  grief,  but  strove  to  control  her  voice,  hor 
features,  and  her  manner  in  presence  of  the  servants,  and  to 
sustain  the  Marquis,  who  seemed  prematurely  old  and  broken. 


A   KIOHT   OF   8UBPSNBE   AT   THE   CHATEAV.  7J 

As  the  ni^ht  wore  on,  shu  begged  of  her  husband  to  take  a  few 
hours'  rest,  but  he  always  replied  that  rest  was  impossible  until 
Henriot  had  returned  with  news  of  some  kind. 

"  Your  dear  companionship,  my  Adricnne,"  he  said  to  her, 
"  is  more  in  this  fearful  erisis  than  any  rest." 

"  Yes ;  we  have  always  been  a  great  deal  to  each  other,"  his 
wife  answered,  "  and  our  mutual  sympathy  tends  to  support  us 
in  this  hour  of  terrible  grief." 

The  look  which  Madame  turned  upon  her  husband  while  she 
thus  spoke  was  so  full  of  poignant  anguish,  so  helpless  and  so 
appealing,  that  he  turned  away  his  head,  unable  to  bear  the  sight. 

"  With  the  help  of  Jambe  d'Argent,"  he  said,  "  we  may  have 
our  loved  one  back  again." 

"  With  the  help  of  Heaven,  Albert,"  said  his  wife,  fervently, 
and  at  the  same  time  with  something  of  reproach  in  her  tone, 
"  and  through  the  prayers  of  our  blessed  protectors." 

"You  are  right,  my  dearest,  ever  right,"  the  Marquis  said 
gently ;  "  but  under  God  this  man  may  come  to  our  aid." 

"  It  is  said  he  has  wonderful  power  and  unknown  resources," 
Madame  observed,  thoughtfully. 

"  We  must  not  count  too  much  on  these  peasant  tales,"  said 
the  Marquis. 

"  But  Oaston  and  Duplessis  had  confidence  in  him,"  cried 
the  Marquise,  hastily.  "  Duplessis  bade  Gaston  have  recourse  to 
him  in  any  emergency." 

Her  voice  faltered  and  broke  as  she  pronounced  the  beloved 
name. 

"  Yes,"  assented  the  Marquis,  "  and  it  was  our  boy's  intention 
to  have  sought  his  aid  for  Duplessis.  He  was  actually  on  his 
way  there,  so  Henriot  reported,  when  arrested.  Duplessis  was 
not  one  to  lie  deceived,  and  be  and  Gaston  had  aottiallv  agreed 


™         A  siaar  of  auBPtsas  at  the  ohatmav. 

to  rerve  under  him,  and  were  to  hare  brought  thither  a  contingent 
from  Saint  Ljrphar  when  the  blow  fell  on  them  both." 

"  Some  believe  this  Jambe  d'Argent  to  be  a  person  of  noble 
birth,"  Madame  continued. 

It  solaced  her  now  to  dweU  upon  these  tales  which  hitherto 
she  had  dismissed  with  somewhat  lofty  disbelief.  If  the  power 
"nd  the  prestige  of  this  man  were  what  the  peasantry  believed, 
then  then  must  be  hope  for  Gaston.  It  was,  in  any  case,  the  one 
ray  of  light  in  darkness. 

"  It  might  be  more  probable  that  he  is  of  obscure  birth,  but 
endowed  with  military  genius,"  dissented  the  Marquis. 

Madame's  face  UM  She  was  convinced  that  a  person  of 
obscure  birth  could  do  little  for  her  boy.  The  Marquis,  seeing 
the  effect  of  his  words,  hastened  to  add : 

"  But  military  genius  or  genius  of  any  sort  is  of  far  more 
value  than  name  or  rank  in  these  evil  times.  Of  the  worthless- 
ness  of  the  latter,  we  are  ourselves  a  sad  ex^ple." 

There  was  silence  between  them  after  that,  Madame  rising 
from  time  to  time  and  pwing  the  room  as  one  who  found  in- 
activity impossible. 

"  I  wonder  how  soon  Henriot  can  be  here?  "  she  said  at  last 
"  The  faithful  fellow  win  lose  no  time  by  the  way." 
The  Marquis  looked  at  bis  chronometer. 
"  It  is  three  o'clock  now,"  he  remarked. 
"Then  it  will  soon  be  day,"  Madame  said  joyfully,  "and  the 
day  is  so  hopeful  and  purposeful.     The  ni^t  shutting  one  in 
with  the  darkness  gives  a  feeling  of  helplessness." 

"  I     think,  my  love,"  said  the  Marquis,  "  that  if  Henriof s 
news  be  bad,  I  shall  go  to  Nantes  during  the  day." 
Madame  gave  a  cry. 
"  You,  too,  my  Albert !    0  God,  no!    You  must  not  go.    It 


A   NIOHT   OF   BVSPKNat  AT   THB   CBATBAU. 


o«n  not  do  any  good,  and  will  be  but  thrusting  your  bead  into 
tbe  lion's  mouth." 

The  Marquis  had  a  thought  in  his  mind  which  he  did  not 
care  to  put  into  words.  He  had  but  lately  read  of  a  noble  of  his 
own  remote  kindred  who  had  ridden  twenty  miles  from  his  an- 
cestral chateau  to  Paris,  and  had  there  managed  to  substitute 
liimself  for  his  son,  condemned  to  death.  When  the  name  was 
called  for  eiecution,  the  youth  lay  sleeping,  and  the  father  an- 
swered to  his  name  and  number.  The  creatures  of  Fouquier 
Tinville  asked  but  few  questions  so  long  as  they  were  not  deprived 
of  a  victim.  The  old  man  was  executed  and  the  son  was  saved. 
Could  not  he  do  the  like,  in  the  last  extremity?  Aloud  he  merely 
said,  however : 

"  If  our  old  name  has  not  lost  all  its  power  and  influence,  I 
may  be  able  to  baffle  the  schemes  of  this  Premion,  and,  in  any 
case,  my  dearest,  would  it  not  be  better  for  the  head  of  our  house 
to  go  and  face  danger  when  duty  called  than  to  remain  here 
ignobly,  and  permit  the  son  of  that  house  to  perish  without  pro- 
test?" 

There  was  a  nobility  about  the  old  man,  as  he  spoke  calmly 
and  resolutely,  which  made  Madame  realize  that  unless  Henriot 
were  the  bearer  of  good  tidings,  she  might  have  to  grieve  for  this 
other  precious  life  hanging  in  the  balance.  She  clasped  both 
hands  to  her  heart,  convulsively. 

"  Am  I,  then,  to  be  left  alone  ?    she  cried. 

"  Robert  will,  in  any  event,  be  spared  to  you,  I  trust,"  said 
the  Marquis,  tenderly. 

"  Robert !  Why,  he  may  be  at  this  moment  in  presence  of  the 
enemy,"  cried  the  poor  lady.  "Besides,  think,  my  Albert,  of 
what  the  loss  of  Gaston  would  be,  especially  were  your  precioua 
life  likewise  imperiled.    Think  what  we  two  have  been  to  each 


80  ±    mOHT   OF   aVBPEUBE  AT   TBS   CBATEAV. 

Other.  Think  of  the  years,  as  they  have  gone  over  our  heads,  the 
joy  of  spring,  the  glory  of  summer,  the  sad  loveliness  of  autumn, 
and  the  long,  dark  mystery  of  winter.  We  have  shared  the  joys 
and  the  discomforts  of  all.  We  have  loved  each  other,  and  our 
love  has  been  as  a  cro»n.  My  mind  was  yours,  our  hearts  were 
closely  bound,  we  felt  acutely  each  joy  or  sorrow  in  common;  we 
looked  on  beauty  with  the  same  eyes,  we  admired  what  was  noble 
and  good  and  true  together,  and  strove  to  weave  it  into  our  lives. 
We  saw  each  other's  faults— yours,  my  beloved,  were  scarce  per- 
ceptible-but  to  forgive  them.  Yours  was  the  larger,  higher 
nature,  mine  strove  upward  to  it.  We  rejoiced  in  our  children, 
and  in  them  lived  our  youth  over  again,  but,  nevertheless,  we  were 
(IS  one.  And  now,  my  Albert,  will  you  shatter  the  fair  mirror 
oC  our  lives?" 

She  spoke  earnestly,  impressively,  as  if  from  the  borderland 
of  a  near  parting.  She  surveyed  the  whole  peaceful  panorama 
of  their  joint  existence  at  the  chateau,  and  her  appeal  was  so 
tender,  so  powerful,  that  it  drew  tears  from  the  eyes  of  her 
listener.    He  took  her  hand  and  held  it. 

"Adrienne,"  he  said,  "a  generation  and  more  has  passed 
since  I  pledged  my  love  and  fidelity  to  you.  You  gave  yourself 
to  me  in  your  fresh  beauty,  with  all  that  charm,  that  wit,  and 
that  captivating  grace  which  might  have  won  you  a  hundred 
hearts.  You  were  pleased  to  accept  mine,  a  poor  enough 
gift." 

Madame  looked  at  him  with  that  smile  which  still  illumined 
her  face  as  with  a  sunbeam.    It  was  more  eloquent  than  words. 

"  I  was  not  worthy  of  you,  Adrienne,"  the  Marquis  went  on, 
"and  I  had  little  to  oiler." 

"  One  of  the  noblest  names  in  France,"  said  Madame,  with  s 
flash  of  her  eyea. 


i.   mOHT   OF   aVBPEllSII  AT    THE   CBATtAV. 


'  bat  I  took 


"  0,  Albert, 


"Be  it  io,"  Mid  the  old  man,  with  a  sad  smile ; 
yon  from  brilliant  Pari»  to  live  in  seclusion  here." 

"An  enchanted  solitude!"  ixclaimcd  Madame, 
how  happy  we  have  been." 

And  at  the  recollection  she  broke  down  utterly  and  wept 
The  Uarquis  soothed  her,  as  though  she  had  been  a  child. 

"Ye.;  we  have  been  happy,  my  love,"  said  the  Marquis,  " but 
m  all  that  time  you  have  never  sought  to  dissuade  me  from 
what  seemed  my  duty.  Bather,  you  have  supported  and  uphdd 
me.    Will  you  fail  now?" 

Madame  raised  her  tear-stained  face  and  threw  back  her  head 
proudly. 

"No,  Albert,"  she  said  firmly;  "if  the  necessity  arises  yon 
shaU  go.    And  I  shall  be,  as  always,  at  your  side." 

The  Marquis  started. 

"My  love,"  he  said,  "it  can  not  be.  You  must  remain  here, 
wliere  there  will  be  comparative  saf,*y  for  a  time  at  least." 

"My  security  is  by  your  side,"  she  said  quietly;  "and  if  we 
can  not  save  our  son,  wc  can,  at  least,  die  with  him." 

"And  Robert.'" 

An  expression  of  anguish  crossed  the  mother's  face. 

"  Robert,"  she  said,  "  is  daily  exposing  his  life  for  our  ruined 
alUrs  and  for  the  royal  cause.  If  he  escape,  he  will  proceed,  no 
doubt,  to  Coblentz  or  to  England  with  the  other  exiles." 

"  It  is  true  that  we  have  been  only  discussing  a  contingency," 
oUerved  the  Marquis,  trying  to  speak  cheerily.  "  Hcnriot  may 
bring  good  news,  and  I  may  not  be  needed  at  Nantes." 

"God  grant  it!"  said  Madame;  "but,  remember,  whither 
thou  goest,  I  wiU  go,  and  if  danger  threatens  one,  it  shall  threaten 
both." 

At  that  moment  the  dawn  broke,  anil  the  light,  faint  in  the  ftrat 


m\ 


A   NIOHT   OF   BV8PENBE  AT   TBS    OUATEAO. 


place  but  gradually  growing  brighter,  streamed  into  the  room, 
showing  each  familiar  object  with  distinctness. 

"  The  day  is  bioaking,"  cried  Madame.  "  1  must  look  if  there 
Im}  any  trace  of  Hci  loc.  It  is  time  he  was  here,  unless  he  was 
detained  at  the  civr  ■  of  Jambe  d'Argent,  or  were  stopped  on  his 
way." 

She  pushed  over  toward  the  window  a  powerful  glass  which 
stood  on  a  pedestal  hard  by,  and,  putting  her  eyes  to  it,  peered  out 
over  the  river,  as  she  believed  that  Henriot  might  come  by  boat, 
and  thence  to  the  rocky  shore  Where  he  was  Hure  to  land,  and  from 
which  the  path,  steep  and  stony,  led  up  to  the  chateau.  The 
Marquis,  still  seated,  turned  his  gaze  in  the  same  direction. 

Thus  they  remained,  silently  regarding  the  still  morning 
scene  before  them,  the  broad  sheet  of  the  Loire,  still  covered  hy 
tlie  haze  of  the  dawn,  and  the  land,  faint  aud  misty  *t  first, 
gradually  becoming  bolder  in  outline  and  more  distinctly  marked. 
The  water  was  as  yet  undiMturbal  by  a  single  vessel,  for  even 
the  fishing  boais  had  not  yet  set  forth  to  break  its  'almness  by 
the  casting  of  the  nets.  And  as  the  coldness  of  the  dawn  began 
to  give  place  to  the  roseate  glow  of  the  awakened  day,  and  still 
Madame  saw  nothing,  she  turned  from  the  glass  with  a  faint, 
weary  sigh. 

"  I  see  nothing  of  him,"  she  cried ;  "  can  he,  too,  have  been 
taken?    If  that  were  so,  all  hope  is  at  ..m  end.'' 

"We  must  go  on  hoping  neverthe. ess,"  said  the  Marquis, 
"  until  hope  beeomes  impossible.  Think  cf  the  difficulties  he  may 
have  had  to  overcome,  of  the  caution  with  which  it  was  necessary 
to  proceed,  and  of  the  distance.  Then,  too.  he  may  have  had  to 
follow  that  mysterious  leader  from  place  to  place.  It  is  said  that 
he  transports  himself  from  one  to  the  other  with  extraordinary 
rapidity." 


A  Niaar  of  aaspfxsE  at  ths  cbatsav.         m 

"  Hii  help  maj-  come  too  late  if  he  can  not  be  found  tt  once," 
iighed  Madame.  'These  dn'adful  tribunals  do  their  work  all 
too  (juicklj-,  aiid  l'i»  has  ever  escaiied  farrier.  In  this  case 
oonvietion  would  'x'  eertain,  where,  as  Uenriot  supposes,  that 
miacreant  I'lvmion  desires  it  from  motives  of  private  revenge." 

The}  were  still  '  '"dng  thus  when  there  was  a  knock  at  the 
door,  and  on  Madunie's  giving  the  order  to  enter,  it  was  thrown 
open  and  a  vrvant  appeared. 

"  Madame  la  Marquise,"  he  announced,  bowing,  "  Henriot  is 
betow." 

"  Send  him  to  us  at  once  1  "  Madame  cried ;  "  but  stay,  let 
him  have  some  refreshment  first.    Ue  must  be  exhausted." 

Then  she  sank  into  a  chair,  nervously  folding  and  unfolding 
her  hands,  her  solf-possessiou,  usually  so  perfect,  utterly  deserting 
her,  until  at  last  she  sobbeii  aloud. 

"  Forgive  me,"  she  said  to  the  Marquis,  "  but  this  suspense  has 
been  cruel." 

"  Compose  yourself,  my  dmrest,"  said  the  Marquis.  "  I  hear 
a  step  in  the  corridor." 

The  Marquis  had  already  resumed  his  habitual  cabs  and  some- 
what cold  demeanor,  and  stood  waiting  for  the  arrvant  with  ao 
impassive  countenance.  A  moment  later  Henriot  entered,  saluting 
first  one  and  then  the  other  with  profound  respect. 

"  Speak :  "  said  the  Marquis,  "  my  faithful  fellow ;  let  us  hoar 
without  delay  the  tidings  you  have  brought.  But,  first,  have  you 
taken  the  refreshment  which  Mad..me  ordered  for  you?  You 
stand  in  great  need  of  it." 

"If  ycu,  Monsieur  le  Marquis  and  Madame,  will  permit,  I 
should  prefer  to  tell  you  first  all  that  I  have  learned." 

"  Proceed,  then,"  said  the  Marquis.  "  Yonder  is  a  chair,  for 
you  are  exhausted." 


S4 


A   NIOBT   or   HUBrKUBt   AT   TUB   OBATMAV. 


"  I  hive  Ken  Ja  ibe  d'Argent,"  mid  Henriot,  ttill  brMthlew 
from  the  iteep  aKcnt. 

"  And  he  mya  ?  "  interpoaed  Madami'. 

"  He  had  already  heard  of  the  arrett  of  Count  Oaaton  and 
Bichard  Dupleaaia,  and  further  diacovered  that  the  charge*  againat 
them  were  baaed  upon  an  interview  in  the  parlor  of  the  Bed  Inn, 
which  was  overheard  by  a  apy." 

"  My  God  I "  murmured  Madame. 

"  In  that  interview  it  waa  made  clear  that  they  bad  not  only 
Mrved  in  the  Catholic  army,  but  were  preparing  again  to  take 
the  field." 

The  Marquia  waa  very  pale.  He  knew  the  tremendona  im- 
port of  this  news. 

"  Information  waa  lodged  at  the  same  time  against  our  young 
lady,  Mile,  de  Breteuil." 

"How  waa  her  name  brought  into  the  affair?"  cried  the 
startled  Marquia.  Madame  seemed  to  be  utterly  incapable  of  speech. 

"  She  was  charged  with  being  in  the  conspiracy,"  said  Henriot, 
in  a  low  voice,  "  because  of  her  presence  at  the  Bed  Inn  on  that 
night." 

"  Her  presence  at  the  lied  Inn  ?  "  cried  the  Marquis,  in  a  tone 
of  diapleasure,  his  brow  clouding  over.  "  Thia  is  an  invention 
of  thoee  infamoua  men,  who  epare  nothing  to  attain  their  enda." 

"  Pardon,  Monsieur  'e  Marquis,"  said  Henriot,  confused  and 
trembling,  "  but,  })erl»ap8,  it  is  better  for  you  to  know  that  it 
was  true." 

The  Marquis  drew  himself  up. 

"  Tell  what  you  know."  be  said  briefly. 

"  Mademoiselle  went  there,  accompanied  by  Jeanne  and 
Erminie  Dumartin,  to  bid  Jlonsieur  Oaaton  farewell  and  tell  him 
pf  her  sympathy  with  the  Catholic  army." 


A   NMHT  or  BVBPMNIM  AT  TBt  OBATMAV. 


"  Hov  imprudent  1 "  murmured  Midtme  under  her  breith, 
"  ind  jet  how  n  itural,  how  b«utif ut  withtl.  She  Mught  to  en- 
courage mj  boy  hy  hsr  words  and  prewnce." 

And  the  mothiT's  heart  felt  very  aoft  and  forgiving  toward 
tliia  daughter  who  was  to  be,  who  had  stepped  aside  somewhat 
from  the  beaten  path  of  ancient  tradition  in  this  crisis  nf  her 
lover'a  destiny.  Not  so  the  Marquis.  His  brow  grew  very  dark,  in- 
deed. Had  Yseult  been  present  at  that  time  in  the  chateau,  she 
would  have  been  made  to  feel  the  weight  of  his  displeasure.  For 
ordinarily  gentle  to  a  fault  and  considerate  of  all  about  him, 
be  waa  inexorable  in  matters  of  discipline,  and  exacted  a  reasonable 
'  lit  unquestioning  obedience  from  every  member  of  his  honse- 
hold.  He  would  not,  however,  discuss  the  matter  with  a  servant, 
reeerving  for  Uadame's  ears  his  condemnation  of  the  levity  and 
heedlessness,  the  want  of  propriety  and  the  needless  rushing  into 
danger,  which,  in  his  opinion,  had  characterised  Yseult's  conduct. 

"  Monsieur  le  Marquis,"  began  Henriot,  in  a  faltering  voice, 
"  it  was  all  the  doing  of  Jeanne.  She  reproached  Mademoiselle 
with  having  no  heart,  and  said  she  preferred  to  let  Count  Oaston 
go  to  death  without  a  word  of  farewell,  nther  than  break  a  law 
of  etiquette." 

"  Silence ! "  said  the  Marquis.  "  I  can  not  permit  you  to 
transfer  this  responsibility  to  any  other  shoulders.  Jeanne  was 
the  subordinate." 

Madame  called  the  Marquis  apart. 

"  Think  of  the  pleasure  she  has  given  to  our  Gaston  by  this, 
which,  to  my  mind,  shows  a  noble  heart.  To  bid  him  farewell  and 
inspire  him  by  her  words  to  heroic  deeds.  Is  it  such  a  crime  ?  If 
so,  then,  I,  too,  I  am  afraid,  would  have  been  guilty,  Albert,  in 
those  days  long  ago.  I  could  not  have  let  you  go  away,  perhaps  to 
death,  without  seeing  you  again." 


MICROCOPY   RBOLUTION  TIST  CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 

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.^^^^S        (7 16]   286  -  5989  -  Fa. 

«  A.   mOBT   OF   aVBPBtlBE   AT    THE    CHATEAV. 

"  But  it  was  for  him  to  seelc  her,"  said  the  Marquis,  softening, 
ncverthelcBS,  and  touched  hy  that  allusion  to  the  past  days  of  their 
courtship. 

"He  could  not  and  would  not  for  obvious  reasons,"  urged 
Madame.    "  It  was  impossible  for  him  to  implicate  her,  all  of 
us,  by  a  visit  to  the  eastlc  wlien  employed  on  such  a  mission." 
"  She  should  have  hnd  equal  prudence." 
"  She  sacrificed  only  herself." 
"  Had  they  been  betrothed — " 

"  After  all,  what  is  that  but  a  formality  1  They  love  each  other, 
they  are  destined  for  each  othei',  and  I  am  certain  that  Tseult's 
dignity,  with  Gaston's  chivalrous  courtesy,  prevented  any  possible 
impropriety  in  the  situation." 

"  You  are,  after  all,  my  love,  but  a  woman,"  said  the  Marquis, 
"  a  very  charming  one  and  a  special  pleader.  I  have  already 
forgiven  the  fair  culprit,  and  I  would  it  were  in  my  power  to 
ward  off  from  her  the  consequences  of  this  act,  which  may  be  grave 
enough." 

He  sighed  as  he  turned  again  to  Henriot. 
"Has  the  little  Dumartin  been  likewise  implicated?" 
"Yes,  Monsieur.     Her  words  were  described  as  treasonable, 
and  her  love  for  Richard  Duplessis  displeases  that  scorpion  of  a 
Tremion,  who  wants  her  for  himself." 

The  Marquis  shuddered  as  he  recalled  a  conversation  with 
Duplessis  concerning  Promion,  into  which  had  been  introduced 
the  names  of  both  the  girls. 

"  And  what  further  said  Jambe  d' Argent  ?  " 
"  That  yon.  Monsieur  le  Marquis,  were  to  leave  the  matter  in 
his  hands,  and  that  he  would  do  all  that  human  ingenuity  could 
suggest  to  save  the  lives  of  the  accused,  and  to  prevent,  if  pos- 
sible,  the  arrest  of  Mademoiselle  and  her  companion." 


A  masT  OF  avsPENas  at  tbb  chateau.         07 

"  They  are  rtill  at  the  convent  ? "  inquired  the  Marquis. 

"  MademoiBellp  is  th»rc,  but  Jeanne  is  at  Nantes  i:.  disguise, 
hoping  for  some  way  of  getting  Duplessis  out  of  the  prison/' 
answered  Henriot. 

"  Imprudence  again !  "  cried  the  Marquis.  "  Madness !  But 
1  myself  will  go  to  Nantes  to-morrow." 

"  Jamlje  d'Argent  psjire^.^ly  forbids  it !  "  cried  Henriot.  "  His 
words  were,  '  Let  not  the  old  eagle  seek  to  follow  the  fliglit  of  the 
young.    He  must  remain  in  the  eyrie,  or  the  worst  may  befall.' " 

"  Oh,  he  is  right,"  cried  Madame ;  "  it  might  still  further  en- 
danger our  Gaston  and  add  more  victims  to  the  list." 

"  He  bade  me  assure  you,"  continued  Henriot,  "  that  he  would 
move  heaven  and  earth  to  save  these  innocent  men." 

"May  God  reward  him!"  exclaimed  the  Marquise;  "he  has 
taken  a  weight  from  my  heart,  for  1  know,  I  feel,  he  will  succeed. 
And  now  I  shall  go  to  the  oratory  to  give  God  thanks  and  to  pray 
for  His  help." 

"  I  will  join  you  there  in  an  instant,"  said  her  husband ;  and 
when  she  had  withdrawn,  he  turned  again  to  Henriot. 

"  You  have  not  told  all?  "  he  declared  with  emphasis. 

"  The  remainder  of  the  message  I  feared  to  give  in  Madame's 
presence.  He  bids  you  be  not  too  sanguine,  for  that  the  difficulties 
are  enormous,  for  that  Premion,  the  villain,  will  hurry  on  the 
execution,  if  once  the  prisoners  are  condemned.  'That  beaten 
hound  of  a  Premion,'  were  Jambe  d'Argent's  words,  '  will  bite 
hard  and  will  not  easily  loosen  his  grip.  Still  it  may  be  done, 
and  the  Marquis  need  not  fear  that  anything  will  be  neglected. 
But  warn  him,  again,  that  he  must  not  come  to  Nantes.  The 
victims  are  securely  lodged  in  a  fearful  dungeon,  where  he  would 
be  thrown,  too,  altogether  powerless.'  " 

"  If  I  must  stay  here  like  a  chained  animal  and  permit  this 


88  i.    mOST   OF   BV8PSV8K  JLT    THE    CHATBJkV. 

horror  to  happen,  God's  will  be  done,"  said  the  Marquis.  "  But 
when  a  certain  time  has  elapsed  and  hope  seems  to  be  abandoned 
and  effort  at  an  end,  then  I  will  go  thither  and  snatch  my  boy 
from  the  guillotine  at  the  price  of  my  own  life." 

Ha  spoke  rather  to  himself  than  to  Henriot,  of  whom  he 
presently  inquired : 

"  What  manner  of  man  is  this  Jambe  d'Argent  ?  " 

Henriot  threw  up  both  his  hands,  crying  enthusiastically:  "A 
most  wonderful  man,  Monsieur  la  Marquis.  He  knows  everything, 
even  what  goes  on  at  the  greatest  distance.  To  me,  he  is  not 
mortal.  He  has  eyes  that  bum  like  fire.  I  found  him  at  the  Camp 
of  the  High  Meadows,  hut  he  has  many  other  resorts.  I  would 
have  feared  him  had  I  not  known  that  he  was  sent  down  to  earth 
to  help  the  Vendeans." 

"God  grant  him  supernatural  aid  in  this  case,"  said  the 
Marquis.  "  I  will  see  and  judge  of  him  myself,  please  God,  at  no 
distant  day." 

"  Not  till  he  gives  the  signal ;  he  will  call  you  when  you  are 
needed,"  said  Henriot.    "  That  was  what  he  said." 

The  Marquis,  pressing  into  Henriot's  hand  some  gold  pieces 
as  a  reward  of  his  faithful  service,  dismissed  him  to  the  rest  and 
refreshment  he  required. 


IK    TUB   DUXOEOK    OF   TUL    CLOCK    TOWtlt. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


IN  THE  DUNGEON  OF  THE  CLOCK  TOWEB. 

BiCHARD  Ddplessis  had  been  confined  in  tliat  dungeon  which 
was  popularly  known  m  that  of  the  Clock  Tower,  because  the 
victims  heard  continually  the  dismal  sound  of  a  clock  which  struck 
each  quarter,  thus  announcing  to  the  condemned  that  time 
was  growing  short  and  eternity  drawing  near.  Those  confined 
in  this  dreary  prison  were  understood  to  be  beyond  hope  of  pardon, 
and  also  on  the  very  eve  of  execution.  But  the  execution  was  often 
deferred,  thus  increasing  the  torture  of  the  victim  by  perpetual 
suspense. 

Thus  Richard  Duplessis  lingered,  though  he  had  been  ft  .:ally 
condemned  to  death,  and  had  heard  his  sentence  with  tranquil 
mien  and  an  undisturbed  composure,  which  infuriated  Premion, 
who  stood  by  with  taunts  and  sneers,  drawing  only  from  Richard 
an  expression  of  the  profoundest  (Hintempt. 

Duplessis  had  no  hope  of  revisiting  his  beloved  village  or 
s«ing  Jeanne  again.  Hope,  indeed,  as  regarded  the  things  of 
earth,  was  dead  within  him,  but  with  cheerful  composure  he  pre- 
pared to  meet  his  fate.  He  lay,  heavily  manacled,  in  a  noisome 
cell,  crawling  with  loathsome  reptiles,  where  the  swish  of  the  river 
without  filled  up  th>>  pauses  in  the  striking  of  the  awe-inspiring 
clock.     It  was  t'  pie  and  manly  faith  of  the  soldier  of  La 

Vendue  which  kt,  up  his  courage  in  those  fearful  hours  and 
prevented  him  fmni  sinking  into  the  abyss  of  despair.  He  told 
himself  that  he  was  to  give  up  his  life  for  his  beloved  country  and 


;.V  THE   DVKOEOy    OF    THE   CLOCK    TOWER. 


tilt'  fuith  which  he  lield  still  doaror,  and  it  mattered  not  whether 
on  the  guillotine  or  the  battlefield.  And,  if  he  had  to  endure 
the  unspeakable  liorrors  of  this  imprisonment,  it  was  the  part  of  a 
man  and  a  Christian  to  resign  himself  to  the  inevitable. 

Often  in  his  dreams  lie  went  back  again  to  the  pleasant  places 
of  his  boyhood,  swift  runs  in  the  breezy  mornings  on  the  Marais 
with  his  young  companions,  merry  games  of  cache-cache  in  the 
woods  of  the  Boc'age,  fishing  expeditions  with  his  beloved  Count 
Gaston,  always  his  hero  and  the  idol  of  his  boyhood,  hours  of 
study  at  the  College  at  Vannes,  whither  he  had  been  sent  by  the 
favor  of  the  Marquis,  and,  last  of  all,  his  brief  courtship  and  the 
joy  of  possessing  the  love  of  bis  noble-hearted  Jeanne,  who  hsd 
all  the  sterling  virtues  of  the  Breton  woman — a  fearless  devotion 
to  duty,  a  self-denial  which  was  almost  austere,  a  beautiful  en- 
thusiasm for  religion  and  for  countr)',  and  all  ih(i5e  nobler  traits 
which  spring  from  the  life-long  practise  of  the  Catholic  faith. 

Sometimes,  even  in  his  waking  moments,  he  stro"p  to  br-ng  the 
past  before  him,  and  be  recalled,  with  a  half  smile  .ind  a  half 
sigh,  the  talk  of  the  lads  on  the  parade  ground  at  Vannes.  Their 
noble  aspirations,  their  determination  to  die,  if  necessary,  for 
God  and  country,  their  contempt  of  evil,  their  generous 
Utopianism.  He  seemed  to  hear  Count  Gaston  talking  to  the 
others.  He  was  always  a  leader  in  the  circle  he  affected.  What 
boyish  earnestness,  what  inspiration  in  his  fine  face,  what  intense 
desire  to  reach  cut  and  grasp  the  finer  things  of  life!  And  how 
the  others  had  responded,  as  the  strings  of  a  violin  respond  to  the 
bow.  Well,  many  of  those  lads  had  all  too  sadly  realized  their 
youthful  dreams,  and  bad  perished  in  the  ranks  of  the  faithful  few 
who  surrounded  the  King,  or  on  the  guillotine;  others  were,  like 
himself,  in  pri  n.  tie  was  as  yet  ignorant  of  the  arrest  of 
Count  iJaston.    But  some,  on  the  contrary,  had  turned  aside  from 


ly    TBE   DUNQEOS'    OF    THE   CLOCK    TOWER.  01 

the  shining  patli  traced  out  in  thoRp  youthful  dreams,  pursuing 
devious  paths.  In  the  ranks  of  the  -epublican  army,  in  the  host 
of  unprincipled  demagogues,  of  whom  Premion  was  a  typi*,  at  the 
very  revolutionary  tribunals  were  to  be  found  some  of  thoae  lads 
who  had  talked  so  bravely  on  the  college  rampus. 

He  was  surprised  one  morning  nt  the  early  appearance  of  his 
jailer,  who  brought  with  him  a  hlacksmith  to  strike  off  his 
manacles.  The  men  would  answer  no  questions,  but  presently 
led  the  prisoner  into  a  well-lighted  and  eheerfiil  room,  which 
had  little  save  its  utter  bareness  nnrl  the  grated  window  to  suggest 
a  prison.  Here  he  was  better  fed  and  treated  with  considerable 
indulgence,  being  even  supplied,  at  his  request,  with  writing  ma- 
terials. 

Thenceforth  he  spent  his  spare  moments  in  adding  new  pages 
to  a  manuscript  which  he  hoped  might  one  day  reach  his  be- 
trothed, and  into  which  he  poured  out  every  secret  of  his  soul. 
One  morning,  shortly  after  his  removal  to  these  better  quarters, 
he  was  so  engrossed  with  his  journal  that  he  did  not  perceive 
a  jailer,  who  had  entered  and  vas  standing  observing  him. 


"My  dearest,"  he  wrote,  "I  wonder  if  this  change  to  com- 
parative ease  and  luxury  means  the  approach  of  death  ?  If  so,  I 
shall  try  to  confront  it  cheerfully  and  picture  to  myself  that  para- 
dise above,  where  there  will  Ik*  a  perpetual  feast  of  all  saints,  ami 
where  we  shall  surely  meet.  I  wonder  how  it  will  be?  Shall  the 
faces  we  were  familiar  with  upon  earth  be  the  same  in  that  new 
brightness?  Will  the  old  look  we  cherished  he  there,  or  some 
other  one  born  of  great  love  and  peace?  In  any  case,  my  Jeanne, 
it  will  be  there,  and  there  alone,  that  we  shall  see  each  other  again. 
These  cruel  walls  will  never  relax  their  hold  save  to  send  me 
to  the  guillotine." 


lli    TBS   DUNGEON   OF    THE   CLOCK    TOWER. 


"  That  depends  somewhat  upon  yourBelf,"  obte9rTed  the  jailer, 
dryly. 

Richard  started  violently,  looking  up  and,  for  the  first  time, 
perceiving  the  intruder,  who  seemed  to  be  peering  over  his 
shoulder. 

"  You  have  been  reading  what  I  was  writing ! "  Dupli'sais 
cried,  with  a  swift  flush  of  anger. 

"  I  chanced  to  see  the  last  sentence  you  wrote.  It  doesn't 
matter.    I  shall  not  tell  tales,"  replied  the  other,  imperturbably. 

Duplfssis,  stifling  the  anger  which  he  knew  to  be  futilo,  noticed 
for  the  first  time  that  this  was  nOt  the  same  jailer  to  whom  he 
had  been  accustomed,  and  who  had  been  a  particularly  brutal  as 
well  as  taciturn  fellow. 

"There  are  ways  by  which  you  might  open  this  prison," 
suggested  the  newcor^er. 

"  Name  them,"  said  Duplessis,  looking  up  quickly. 

The  jailer  came  forward  and  leaned  upon  the  table,  so  that  he 
was  directly  confronting  the  prisoner. 

"  The  surest  way,"  he  said,  slowly,  "  would  be  to  sell  the 
Roche  Andr6s,  root  and  branch,  old  and  young," 

"  Sell?  "  repeated  Duplessis,  not  at  first  realizing  his  meaning. 

"  Pretend  to  have  some  particular  knowledge  about  them," 
continued  the  jailer,  coolly,  "  which  will  insure  their  condemna- 
tion OR  enemies  of  the  nation,  dangerous  to  the  public  welfare." 

The  man  had  scarce  finigbcd  when  Duplessis  sprang  upon  him. 

"  Villain!  "  he  cried,  forcing  him  backward  against  the  wall. 
"How  has  your  wretched  brain  imagined  such  baseness?" 

"But  your  life?"  gasped  the  man,  half  stifled. 

"  A  thousand  lives  would  not  tempt  me  to  hurt  one  hair  of 
those  noble  heads,"  replied  P^iolessis.  "  Oh,  that  any  one  should 
have  dared  to  breathe  the  thoug)it ! " 


in    THE   DDNOBOK    OF   TUB   CLOCK    TOWER. 


"  Softly,  or  you  will  kill  me,"  cried  the  man,  for  Richard, 
in  his  rage,  scarce  knew  what  he  did—"  and  it  was  not  by 
my  hrain  that  this  plan  was  laid.    I'remion— " 

Hichard  relaxed  his  hold,  and  the  stranger  took  several  gasping 
I)reuth8  to  fill  his  lungs.    When  he  could  speak  again  he  l)egan : 

"  1  heard  the  Citizen  Carrier  say  to  Premion  that  he  must 
nnd  would  be  rid  of  those  pestilent  Roche  Andres,  for  that,  on 
ihe  one  hand,  they  were  forever  striving  to  interfere  with  the 
Imsincss  of  the  tribunals,  and  on  the  other,  people  were  never 
tired  of  sounding  their  praises  and  encouraging  other  aristocrats 
to  net  similarly.  Premion  then  said  that  you,  who  knew  so  much 
nlwut  them,  might  be  made  to  turn  informer,  and  that  is  why 
you  I  live  been  brought  up  from  underground  and  placed  in 
this  spacious  cell.  The  same  reason  has  caused  the  manacles  to 
drop  from  your  legs  and  arms.  It  might  have  been  as  well  for 
me  had  they  been  left  on  a  little  longer.  But  that  is  by  the 
way." 

"  Premion  dared  to  say  such  a  thing  of  me !  "  cried  Richard, 
who,  fairly  speechless  with  rage,  had  sat  through  the  other's  re- 
cital with  flaming  cheeks  and  eyes  aglow  with  a  passion  which 
secme<l  fairly  to  scorch  the  narrator. 

"  Men  measure  one  another  by  their  own  yardstick,"  the  jailer 
replied,  carelessly,  and  Hichard  looked  sharply  into  his  face,  eager 
to  determine  whether  the  man  before  him  was  friend  or  foe  to 
Premion. 

"But  what  was  his  object?"  inquired  he.  "He  does  not 
desire  my  release." 

"Desire  it?  No,"  said  the  man,  with  a  grim  smile.  "Nor 
has  he  any  intention  of  allowing  it.  He  is  merely  playing  a 
game  of  fox,  with  you  for  the  goose." 

" Explain  yourself! "  exclaimed  Duplessis,  impatiently. 


»4  ly    THE   DVyOMOU   OF    TJf*   CLOCK    TOWER. 

"  Before  I  do  lo,  let  me  l«y  before  you  the  adTintagee  of  this 
Bcheme,  leaving  Premion,  too,  aside  for  the  present." 

"  The  advantageii  of  infamy  !  "  cried  Duplessis.  "  I  forbid 
yoi  to  say  a  word,  or,  prisoner  as  I  am,  I  fear  I  shall  do  you 
violence." 

"  As  you  please,"  said  the  other  coolly.  "  I  shall,  therefore, 
proceed  to  the  eiplanation.  If  once  you  played  his  game,  Premion 
would  chronicle  the  same  for  the  benefit  of  a  certain  young  person, 
the  daughter  of  a  worthy  citizen  who  keeps  the  Red  Inn  at  Saint 
Lyphar." 

Duplessis  made  a  gesture  of  displeasure. 

"  I  see  you  object  to  the  introduction  of  this  young  person  into 
the  drama,  but  she  has  to  appear.  The  tale  would  not  have  been 
a  pretty  one  for  her  cars,  au.1  the  Citizen  Duplessis  would  have 
fallen  several  degrees  in  her  estimation.  Duplessis  had  sold  the 
people  at  the  castle,  to  whom  he  was  bound  by  many  early  ties. 
Therefore,  Duplessis  was  unworthy  the  love  of  an  honest  girl, 
who  had  not  the  proper  amount  of  respect  for  the  friends  of 
the  nation.  Once  this  design  accomplished,  Carrier  would  be 
made  to  understand  that  you  yourself  were  the  most  dangerous 
of  all  suspects,  and  the  guillotine  would  quickly  end  your  career." 

Richard  fixed  a  piercing  glance  upon  the  upposed  jailer,  and 
asked  suddenly : 

"  Who  are  you  ?  " 

"  That  will  come  later.  But,  as  I  have  said,  there  are  means 
of  escape.    I  have  told  you  of  only  one." 

"  If  the  others  as  equally  infamous,  I  warn  yon  again  to  be 
silent,"  said  Richard,  sternly. 

"The   other    requires    wit,    address,    courage,    endurance 

qualities  which  I  believe  you  possess,"  said  the  other.  "With  them 
you  may  outwit  Premion  and  the  devil  himself.     Once  out  of 


iy   TBM   DVlfOEOS   OF    THE   CLOCK    TOWER. 


prison,  you  may  put  these  same  qualities  at  the  .  rvicc  o*  Cduh; 
Ouston  do  la  Rocho  Andri.'* 

Tlu'  manV  munniT  wutt  that  of  one  who  had  suddenly  ihri>\wi 
aside  a  ma^k,  and  Hichiinl  stared  at  him  in  astoni^hnu'Dt.  lie 
jierceived,  too,  for  the  first  timt',  that  he  wan  attired  rather  as 
the  servant  of  some  great  family  ttan  as  a  turnkey  in  the  Revo- 
lutionary priRon. 

"How  do  you  come  here,  and  in  such  a  dress?"  demanded 
Richard. 

"  Oh,  I  am  the  valet  of  a  nobleman,  imprisonnd  hore  at  first, 
but  having  been  converted  to  Jacobinism  and  promising  to  reveal 
family  secrets,  I  have  been  assigned  to  duty  as  a  jailer,  and  I 
wear  my  livery  as  a  sign  to  proclaim  my  conversion." 

"You  have  done  this  thing!"  cried  Richard,  looking  at  him 
with  loathing.  "  You  can  coolly  tell  me  that  to  save  your  own  skin 
you  have  betrayed  the  family  whom  you  served?" 

"  Well,  as  the  family  to  which  I  am  supposed  to  belong  is  non- 
existent, the  mischief  is  not  great,"  said  the  other,  calmly.  "  I 
am  to  give  testimony  as  to  the  vices  of  the  nobility  at  c  notable 
trial  which  comes  off  next  week." 

"You  will  do  BO?"  inquired  Richard. 

"  By  that  time  I  may  have  gone,  say  to  the  seashore  for  my 
health,"  laughed  the  man.  "  Perchance,  if  all  goes  well,  you 
may  hear  mo  company,  end  the  young  Count,  too." 

"  You  have  twice  spoken  of  Count  Gfston,"  Richard  observed, 
"  as  though  he  were  in  danger." 

"  Well,  he  does  run  some  risk  in  being  the  guest  of  the  nation 
in  one  of  these  delectable  abodes,"  replied  the  stranger. 

"  Count  Gaston  in  prison ! "  cried  Richard,  sinking  into  the 
chair  from  which  he  had  risen.    "  Gracious  heaven !  " 

He  covered  bis  face  with  his  hands  ind  groaned  aloud.    His 


tH    TUB    DCyOKOS    OJ"   THE   CLOCK    TOWBH. 


cvn  miifortann  hid  never  drawn  from  him  luch  «  minifeatition 
of  feeling. 

"  If  vou  would  «ave  him,  jnu  munt  pnt  by  all  wc«kne««,"  com- 
manded the  unknown.  "  KnuM-  yourself.  We  »hall  work  to- 
gether." 

"  You  are,  then,  a  friend?  "  Richard  asked. 
"  I  am.  nnd  had  you  listened  to  my  first  proposal  the  guillotine 
night  have  had  you,  and  welcome." 

"  Who  are  you,  then  ?  "  asked  Richard  for  the  second  time. 
"  You  may,  perchance,  have  heard  of  .Tambe  d' Argent  ?  "  aaid 
the  man,  an  I  he  pointed  signHcan'Iy  to  a  small,  circular  band 
of  silver  which  he  wore  about  his  leg,  covering  t  apot  where  he 
had  once  received  an  injury. 

Richard  knew  that  it  was  from  this  circumstance  that  that 
remarkable  man  had  derived  his  name.  A  light  broke  over  the 
prisoner*B  face  as  he  cried,  with  a  glow  of  enthusiasm ; 

"  Is  it  possible  that  you  can  be  that  great  leader  himself?  " 
Jambe  d'Argent  nodded,  a  rare  smile  breaking  the  darkness 
of  his  face. 

"  And  yet,"  added  Richard,  sorrowfully,  "  I  thought  Jambe 
d'Argent  knew  something  of  me,  and  that  he  never  would  have 
dreamed  of  trying  me  by  an  infamous  proposal." 

"  Listen,  Duplessis,"  said  the  other  earnestly.  "  I  knew  you, 
I  believed  in  you,  I  tnisted  you,  though  we  have  never  met,  elm 
I  had  not  been  here.  You  have  done  work  for  me,  and  done  it 
well.  You  werr  about  t  the  time  of  your  arrest  to  act  as  one  of 
my  most  trusted  lieutenants,  but  these  are  evil  times,  and  the  suf- 
ferings you  have  undergone  might  well  have  tried  a  weaker  soul 
beyond  endurance.  Only  the  finest  metals  come  forth  from  such 
a  fire.  Therefore,  forgive  me,  for,  thoufrh  I  had  scarce  a  doubt 
of  how  you  would  pass  throu?"-  *he  ordeal,  it  waa,  nevertheless. 


IX    TBt   DVXOEOX    OF    THE   CLOCK    TOWER. 


a  happy  though  a  pi'riloui)  moment  for  nu<  wht>n  ynii  pinned  me 
to  the  wall  vondcr." 

Till'  hiimoroua  smile  which  i)la.V('(l  nur  hin  tini  fiio'  an  he 
[•poke  wan  totichwl  with  tcnili'rnn<».  "(iml  lulpinj;  iis,  vou  ghill 
lie  savoil,  ini<l  the  hemic  ynuLg  (inston  ilc  la  IIik'Ii-  Amlrt,  too." 

"  Of  wluit  Ik  he  aecuned?  "  Richard  ai>kiil,  mi)iirnfully. 

"Oh,  the  UKiial  counts  of  the  indielriMnt,  an  aristocrat,  an 
enemy  of  the  people,  with  many  glanderous  inventions  added,  and, 
last  of  all,  the  specific  charge  of  treasonahle  conspiracy.  His  con- 
ference with  you  in  the  parlor  of  the  Red  Inn  was  overheard  by 
a  concealed  spy  of  I'rcmion." 

Richard  groaned  again. 

"  Then  he  is  lost !  "  he  crieil. 

"Unless  we  can  save  him,"  sug;5este<l  the  other. 

"Unless  yuu  can  do  so,"  ans«ered  Richard.  "Of  what  OM 
am  I  ?  " 

"  Few  things  arc  impossilile  to  the  strong  ami  hrave  and  true," 
said  the  protended  jailer,  and  Richard,  looking  at  him  with  ad- 
miration, exclaimed : 

"  It  is  incredible  that  you  should  be  Jaml»-  d'Argent,  th«t 
renowned  captain  of  whom  such  marvelous  things  are  told !  " 

"  Times  like  these  make  ordinary  men  into  heroes,  and  heroes 
into  demi-gods,"  said  Jambe  d'.\rgent,  with  his  inscrutable  smile. 

He  was  a  tall  man,  finely  proportioned,  with  a  noble,  ex- 
pressive countenance,  changing  at  every  thought,  with  a  smile 
now  playing  about  the  mobile  lips  or  the  stress  of  grief  dark- 
ening the  steel-blue  eyes.  As  to  his  dress,  he  was  seen  under 
aspects  so  protean  that  it  could  never  be  adequately  described. 

"  I  must  go  now,"  he  said,  addressing  Richard.  "  But  if  vou 
are  this  night  removed  to  the  prison  hospital,  do  not  I>e  surprised." 

"  To  the  hospital !  "  crietl  Richard,  in  amazement. 


OS 


ni   THE   DVyOBON   OF   THE   CLOCK    TOWEB. 


"  You  we  a  very  sick  man,  Bichard  Duplessis,"  continued 
Jambe  d' Argent.  "  You  are  ill  of  a  fever,  and  do  not  know  any- 
thing that  is  passing.  Your  mind  is  disordered,  and  whatever 
you  say  is  to  be  set  down  to  the  wanderings  of  frenzy." 
Bichard,  beginning  to  understand,  laughed  outright. 
"  So  I  have  anticipated  any  possible  imprudence  on  your  part," 
declared  Jambe  d' Argent. 

"  You  have  left  me  no  loop-hole  at  all,  monsieur,"  Bichard 
said ;  "  but  I  think  I  shall  keep  dumb." 

"  It  may  be  as  well,  though  you  may,  if  yon  wish,  mutter 
strangely,  Richard,  and  speak'  in  disjointed  phrases.  And  now, 
adieu,  or,  rather,  au  revoir." 

"  Shall  I  see  you  again,  then? "  asked  Richard,  eagerly.  He 
already  felt  for  this  stranger  an  unusual  attraction,  that  glamor 
which  this  mvsteriouB  leader  exercised  over  so  many. 

«  Of  course ;  I  shall  see  you  at  midnight.  You  have  to  be  taken 
to  the  inflrmarv.  My  republican  zeal  will  be  anxious  to  save  the 
life  of  so  valuable  a  witness  for  the  State.  I  shall  heap  attentions 
upon  vou,  and,  if  I  should  chance  to  kill  you  with  kindness,  I 
shall  have  you  b-'ded  as  speedily  and  as  privately  as  possible  to 
avoid  the  anger  of  one  Premion." 

He  said  these  words  with  special  significance.  Then,  as  he 
opened  the  door  and  passed  out,  he  put  his  finger  to  his  lips  to 
insure  secrecy.  And  Richard  found  himself  once  more  securely 
locked  in,  but  with  a  heart  how  much  lighter  it  is  easy  to  imagine. 
Even  the  remote  prospect  of  escape,  the  rare  chance  of  regaining 
his  liberty,  was  exhilarating  to  Richard's  healthful  and  buoyant 

nature.  .,  .  v* 

The  bell  of  the  Clock  Tower  had  just  tolled  out  midnight, 

the  hour  of  mystery,  by  excellence,  the  ghost-haunted  hour,  the 

hour  which  thrius  one  with  vague  apprehension,  the  hour  of  crime. 


ly   THE   DVNO£OX    OF    TUE   CLOCK    TOWER.  M 

the  hour  when  the  dead  to-day  parts  from  the  living  to-morrow. 
The  door  of  Richard's  cell  creaked  on  its  hinges,  admitting  Jambe 
d' Argent,  with  two  other  men. 

"  This  is  the  patient,  Citizen  Doctor,"  said  the  first  named. 
"I  would  like  you  to  examine  him,  for  his  condition  appears 
to  me  serious,  and  were  he  to  die  the  nation  would  lose  an  im- 
portant witness,  and  the  Citizen  Premion  wonld  be  sorely  dis- 
appointed." 

The  cell  was  very  dark,  only  the  light  of  the  lantern  which 
one  of  the  men  carried  illumining  it.  This  light  was  turned  upon 
the  pallet  bed  in  the  comer,  but  Richard  was  not  there.  He  was 
discovered  sitting  at  the  table,  his  head  resting  on  his  arms. 

The  doctor  bent  over  him,  inquiring  how  he  felt,  but,  receiving 
no  answer,  he  felt  his  pulse,  passed  his  hand  over  his  fore- 


"  The  man  is  in  a  raging  fever,"  he  pronounced,  "  and  must 
be  removed  to  the  hospital  without  delay." 

"That  is  as  I  thought,"  said  the  pretended  jailer,  "but  I 
wanted  your  authority  in  support  of  mine." 

"  Seize  him,  then,  by  force,  if  necessary,"  ordered  Jambe 
d'Argent,  and  the  burly  fellow,  who  stood  in  the  background, 
sporting  his  bonnet-rouge  ostentatiously  and  odorous  of  stale 
tobacco,  came  forward  to  execute  the  order. 

"  We  must  carry  him  to  the  hospital,"  went  on  Jambe  d'Argent, 
speaking  in  a  loud,  swaggering  tone.  "  I  will  lend  a  hand,  and  he 
must  have  every  care,  for  his  life  can  not  be  spared  yet  till  he 
has  brought  those  cursed  aristocrats  of  Roche  Andris  to  the 
national  razor." 

The  man  addressed  laughed  thickly  and  coarsely,  saying: 

"  Never  fear,  citizen,  we  will  take  care  of  him,"  and  shaking 
Richard  by  the  shoulder  he  cried  in  his  ear :  "  Wake  up,  my 


r^ 


100 


IS    THE   DUNOBON    OF   THE   r,.OCK    TOWBR. 

You  shall  have  a  good  satueuloHe 


cockatoo,  and  come  with  us. 

or  two  to  wait  upon  you." 

Richard  muttered  a  few  broken  words,  but  made  no  attempt 

to  ri8C,  and  the  supposed  jailer  gave  command. 
"  Raise  him  and  we  will  carry  him  between  us. 
The  other  obeyed,  and  with  some  slight  resistance  on  the  part 
ol  Richard,  who  seemed  to  be  in  a  stupor,  he  was  borne  to  the 
prison  infirmary  and  laid  upon  a  bed.    One  or  two  other  patents 
Lrc  in  the  room,  and  to  the  bedside  of  these  «P""^  ''■"/•"J"; 
holding  no  further  converse  at  the  moment  with  R.chard.    The 
cvalet  went  from  bed  to  b,d,  devoting  particular  attention 
however,  to  Richard,  binding  «  thick  bandage  about  1»«  h^'"""'^ 
oJing  him  a  cooling  drink.    Those  in  the  room  took  l.ttle  heed 
:,  whft  went  forward.    The  man  in  the  adjoining  bed  seemed 
overcome  with  the  double  w.ight  of  his  imprisonment  and  h  s 
sufferings,  and  the  other  inmate  of  the  room  conversed  so  earnestly 
with  thf  doctor  that  Richard  and  his  attendant  were  left  pra<. 

tically  unheeded.  •  i    j». 

"You  must  drink  this  cup."  the  ex-valet  sa,d,  m  a  qmck,  de- 
cided whisper,  "  but  not  till  the  hour  of  three  has  ;*"<=" 
great  clock  in  the  tower.    Then  swallow  ,ts  contents  to  the  dreg.. 

"  And  what  will  follow?  " 

"  Ask  no  questions '  Leave  that  to  me ! " 

There  was  a  passing  gleam  of  distrust  -  K-^^^f  ^^^ 
This  man,  indeed,  represented  himself  as  Jambe  d  Ar^n^ 
L  how  was  he  to  be  sure?  He  met  the  eyes  of  the  e.-valet  fi.ed 
imonhim.  They  seemed  to  read  his  thoughts. 
'  "Your  dist^st  is  misplaced,"  he  said,  in  the  same  burned 
whisper  "and  th"  alternative  of  trusting  me  is  the  gudlotme 
tturself  and  your  friends.  For  know  that  not  only  Count 
Oaston,  but  Mademoiselle,  too,  is  accused  of  connnracy,  b«a«se 


IN   THE   DOXaEOX   OF   tBE   CLOCK    TOWER. 


101 


of  her  presence  at  the  Red  Inn,  and  will  soon  be  arrested.  The 
name  of  Jeanne  Dumartin  also  figures  on  the  list  of  the  accused, 
and  woul  be  taken,  even  had  she  not  left  the  shelter  of  the 
convent  ti  'ome  here  to  Nantes  in  an  effort  to  save  your 
life." 

"Merciful  God!"  cried  Richard.  Then  he  added  firmly: 
"  Have  no  fear,  I  will  drink  the  cup." 

"  The  potion  must  be  taken  at  three  o'clock,"  cried  the  ex- 
valet,  raising  his  voice,  so  as  to  make  himself  heard  by  all. 
"  Doctor,  this  stupid  fellow  can  not  be  made  to  understand." 

The  doctor  approached,  and  succeeded  at  last  in  fixing 
Richard's  attention. 

"  It  is  often  the  case  with  fever  patients,"  he  said ;  "  they 
listen  to  an  authoritative  voice." 

He  turned  to  the  man  in  the  next  bed. 

"  Should  he  appear  unconscious,  force  him  to  take  the 
draft,"  he  said. 

The  man  promised. 

"Even  if  you  have  to  force  it  down  his  throat,"  continued 
the  doctor. 

"  He  shall  take  it,"  promised  the  man. 

The  doctor  and  the  ex-valet  then  withdrew,  and  Richard,  left 
alone,  mused  upon  his  strange  surroundings,  and  the  things  that 
had  befallen,  fearing  to  sleep  and  awaiting  always  the  tolling  of 
three  o'clock.  He  suspected  that  the  doctor  was  in  the  secret, 
and  felt  a  warm  glow  of  gratitude  to  Jambe  d'Argent,  who  had 
thus  endangered  his  own  life  and  liberty  in  so  desperate  an  at- 
tempt. As  the  booming,  ill-omened  pound  of  ibe  Clock  Tower 
bell  rang  out  three,  and  before  Richard  bad  time  to  move,  the 
man  in  the  next  bed  cried  out  to  him : 

"Here  you,  Citizen,  drink  your  potion.    It  is  to  make  you 


Ill    THB   DVSOBOH   OF   THE   CLOCK    TOWBH. 


well  for  your  business,  which  is  to  slit  the  throats  of  fat  aristo- 
crats.   Up  with  you,  and  take  it  I  " 

Hichard,  affecting  to  be  rudely  awakened  from  slumber,  raised 
himself  upon  his  elbow,  and,  after  a  moment  or  two  ot  apparent 
bewilderment,  obeyed  the  n^iterated  order  of  his  neijrhbor,  and 
drained  the  cup  to  the  vety  bottom,  having  first  commended  liis 
soul  to  Ood. 


TRIAL   OF   COUNT   QASTOX   DB   LA    ROCHE   AXDRE.     108 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


TBIAL  OF  OOnNT   GASTON   DE   LA   ROCHE   AyOBE. 


Olv  the  day  following  Richard's  removal  from  the  prison  cell 
to  the  hospital.  Count  Gaston  de  la  Roche  Andre  was  summoned 
t'Sfore  the  Revolutionary  tribunal  on  a  variety  of  charges,  of 
which  the  chief  was  his  conference  at  the  Rod  Inn  of  Saint 
Lyphar,  with  other  traitors,  in  which  was  clearly  stated  his  ir- 
tention  of  taking  the  field  in  the  army  of  the  brigands,  and 
heading  the  men  of  his  own  village  in  an  attack  upon  the  Blues. 
Premion  did  not  directly  appear  as  the  young  man's  accuser, 
leaving  that  to  the  spy  who  had  overheard  the  conversation.  But 
he  took  his  place  among  the  motley  crew  which  sat  in  judgment 
at  the  bar  of  Carrier,  presided  over  by  that  notorious  ruffian  him- 
self. 

The  room  was  crowded  with  men  and  women  all  hostile  to 
the  accused,  and  anxious  to  contribute,  by  their  applause,  at 
least,  and  their  hostile  demonstrations  against  the  prisoner  to 
is  condemnation.    The  name  was  called : 

"  Gaston  Albert  Charles  Marie  de  la  Roche  Andr^,  ci-devant 
Count  and  officer  in  the  Royal  Regiment." 

There  was  a  pause  in  the  crowded  court.  The  name  had  been 
long  a  power  in  that  region.  Many  in  the  multitude  bad  received 
benefits  from  the  family,  or  had  trembled  at  the  strong  arm  which 
the  Jlarquis  had  occasionally  put  forth  against  evildoers.  The 
door  being  opened,  there  entered  a  young  man  of  slender  and 
graceful  bnild,  whose  nobility  of  aspect  for  a  moment  overawed 


104    TRIAL   OF   COVXT   OAaTOH    DE    LA.    ROCHE   ANDRS. 

the  fierce  gathering.  His  ann  was  grasprd  b\  the  same  furiooB 
Jacobin  who  had  gone  to  Saint  Lyphar  on  a  spying  expedition 
and  returned  with  a  full  budget  of  information.  He  was  in  the 
pay  of  Premion,  but  he  had  served  Carrier  well  before  now  by 
denouncing  numberless  priests  and  aristocrats  to  the  tribunal. 
His  darlt  face,  surmounted  by  the  liberty  cap  of  flaming  red,  was 
aglow  with  the  eagerness  he  felt  to  secure  the  young  man's  con- 
demnation. 

For  he  had  once  been  in  the  employ  of  the  Marquis  de  U 
Hoche  Andri,  had  been  convicted  of  theft  and  pardoned  bj  the 
clemency  of  his  employer,  who  had,  moreover,  obtained  for  him 
employment  at  a  distance,  and  had  supported  his  mother  and 
sisters  in  his  absence.  The  Marquis  had  failed  to  recognize  him 
upon  the  occasion  of  his  visit  to  Saint  Lyphar,  but  the  fellow's 
wrath  had  flamed  up  bitterly  against  him,  especially  when  the 
old  gentleman  had  threatened  to  have  him  beaten  from  the  place. 
He  was,  in  fact,  one  c'  the  most  blatant  of  all  the  sans-culottes 
who  indulged  in  flery  tirades  against  the  aristocrats  who 
cumbered  the  earth,  oppressing  the  poor  and  deserving,  and  tramp- 
ling on  the  liberty  of  the  nation. 

"Your  name?"  demanded  the  President  of  the  tribunal. 

"  Gaston  de  la  Boche  Andr*." 

"Your  station?" 

"  Count  and  eldest  son  of  the  Marquis  de  la  Roche  Andr*." 

"  Your  occupation  ?  " 

"  Till  recently  an  officer  in  the  Koyal  Regiment." 

"Note,  citizens,   worthy  republicans,   that  he  acknowledges 
having  borne  arms  against  the  people." 

"  Having  borne  arms  in  the  service  of  the  King  and  against  the 
enemies  of  France! "  corrected  Gaston. 

"  King?    There  is  no  King  in  France." 


TRIAL   or   COVHT   OASTOH   DB   LA.   ROCHB   A3IBRE.     106 


"  I  refer  to  hia  late  Majesty,  King  I»ui8  the  Good,"  ■&• 
awered  Gaston,  a  flash  of  enthusiasm  lighting  up  his  face. 

There  was  ■  howl  from  the  more  advanced  republicans.  Gaaton 
looked  around  him  with  disdain. 

"  The  King  was  a  tyrant  and  a  traitor,"  cried  the  mob.  "  So 
are  the  aristocrats.  Down  with  all  tyrants !  Death  was  too  good 
for  Capet  and  the  infamous  Austrian  woman,  who  hated  the 
French." 

Gaston's  eyer  flashed. 

"  I  trust  they  are  both  in  heaven ! "  he  said,  solemnly,  raising 
his  voice  so  as  to  be  heard  through  the  room. 

"  Or  in  hell,  where  you  will  go  to  join  them  soon  I  "  said  the 
angry  chorus. 

Gaston  smiled  contemptuously,  but  made  no  further  remark. 
His  silence  seemed  still  further  to  aggravate  the  yelling  crowd. 

"  Silence ! "  roared  the  President,  "  and  let  us  hear  the  crimes 
of  which  this  prisoner  has  been  guilty." 

"  Yes ;  let  us  hear ! "  cried  the  mob. 

"  *  First,  he  was  an  officer  in  the  detested  Royal  Regiment,  and 
took  part  in  that  infamous  orgj-  at  Versailles,  being  observed  to 
join  in  that  traitorous  anthem  known  as  *  Richard,  0  mon  Roi/ 
after  which  he  received  a  cockade  from  the  Austrian.' " 

A  howl  of  rage  and  derision  sounded  through  the  court  and 
out  of  the  window,  echoing  through  the  streets  of  the  once  sober^ 
commercial  town. 

" '  Second,'  "  continued  the  President,  "  '  he  has  been  since  in 
correspondence  with  (migris  and  foreign  traitors, 

" '  Third,  he  is  himself  a  notorious  oppressor  of  the  people, 
being  known  to  enforce  his  commands  to  an  inferior  by  a  blow.' " 

"  Blow,  indeed !  He  shall  get  blows  enough,  if  we  can  only  get 
at  him,"  shrieked  a  fury  from  amid  a  group  of  women. 


106    TJMAL   0*"   COV\T   OABTOH   DE   LA    ROCHS   AUDRi. 

■' '  Fourth,  he  hu  deprived  hU  dependent*  of  the  necewarie* 
of  life  in  order  to  spend  money  in  Paris  and  A'erBaiUes. 

" '  Fifth,  he  has  been  detected  in  endeavoring  to  poison  a  well 
in  the  neighborhood  of  his  own  chateau.' " 

"Bum  him!  Choke  him!  Tear  him  to  pieces!"  roared  the 
human  monsters  standing  by. 

" '  Sixth,  he  has  aided  the  old  aristocrat,  his  father,  who  shall 
presently  be  brought  to  justice,  to  enforce  the  levying  of  the 
corvie,  the  tithes,  and  other  taxes  vexatious  to  the  people.' " 

"  Down  with  the  corvee;  we  shall  mend  their  roads  no  more, 
these  vile  aristocrats.  We  shall  make  them  mend  ours,  if  they  are 
not  all  killed  by  the  nation !  "  screamed  the  chorus. 

" '  Seventh,  he  has  been  known  to  set  up  innocent  babes  as 
targets  for  his  archery.' " 

A  roar  of  execration  followed  this  announcement.  The  Presi- 
dent, again  commanding  silence,  proceeded  to  give  a  Ust  of  other 
charges  too  infamous  for  repetition. 

Gaston  had  been  listening  indifferently  to  the  first  counts  of 
the  indictment,  which  were  the  ordinary  ones  against  aristocrats, 
and  had  only  manifested  emotion  once,  when  the  name  of  his 
father  was  mentioned,  accompanied  by  a  threat.  Now,  however, 
a  growing  expression  of  wonder,  of  horror,  of  incredulity,  over- 
spread his  face  as  he  listened  to  the  latest  charges.  They  were 
followed  by  a  wild  tumult,  the  women,  in  particular,  striving  to 
get  near  him,  and,  as  thry  said,  rend  him  where  he  stood. 

«  The  monster!  The  shameless  villain!  The  accursed  aristo- 
crat !    Bum  him !    Flay  him !  and  smoke  out  the  nest  he  comes 

from!" 

There  was  a  flush  of  shame  upon  the  young  man's  face  that 
such  things  should  be  said  of  him  here,  in  the  open  court,  in- 
famous slandfs  which  none  dared  question. 


TtltAL   OF   COVKT   OASTON   DB   LA    ROCUB   ANnilE.     107 


"I  den;  every  word  of  thoae  final  chtrgee!"  the  priioner 
cried  at  lut,  unable  to  bear  it  longer.  "  Thoy  are  (aUe  and  <lan- 
deroua,  nunufactured  merely  to  proenre  my  condemnation,  which 
can  be  obtained  without  them.  It  ii  aulBcient  to  be  an  officer  of 
the  King  and  a  gentleman  to  auSer  death  in  these  days.  There- 
fore, why  vilify  me?" 

His  voice  rang*out  clear  and  commanding,  and  it  was  followed 
by  that  of  a  woman. 

"  He  tells  the  truth ;  the  Count  is  noble  and  good.  These 
.harges  are  base  lies,  every  one  of  them." 

The  Count  fancied  there  was  something  familiar  in  the  tone, 
and  turned  his  gaze  toward  a  part  of  the  room  where  stood  the 
figure  of  a  girl.  She  raised  her  hand,  with  a  iny  scroll  in  it,  as  if 
to  attract  his  attention.  But  he  instantly  averted  his  eyes,  for  it 
occurred  to  him  that  the  slightest  evidence  of  collusion  with  her 
might  insure  her  destruction.  Despite  her  disguise,  he  knew  her 
instantly,  and,  unfortunately  for  herself,  so  did  Premion.  Her 
voice  had  sent  a  thrill  through  him,  and  he  knew  that  in  her 
couragit,  her  loyalty,  her  very  defiance  of  himself,  he  loved  her 
as  he  had  never  done  before.  Moreover,  here  was  the  hour  of  her 
triumph.  He  knew  that  she  would  be  present  at  the  trial  of 
Yseult,  which  was  to  follow  that  of  Gaston,  should  Carrier's 
messengers  bring  her  thither  in  time,  having  ventured  all  to 
be  near  her  friend  in  the  dread  ordeal. 

He  gave  a  hasty  order  to  one  of  his  subordinates  to  seize  her 
and  bear  her  quietly  away  to  the  prison  for  women,  which  was  in 
a  former  convent.  As  the  man  took  her  by  the  arm,  ordering 
her  to  follow  him,  Jeanne  resisted,  and  Premion,  stealing  up  be- 
hind her,  whispered : 

"Go  quietly.  Yon  were  mad  to  come  here.  A  warrant  is 
out  for  your  arrest,  but  I  am  your  friend,  and  can  save  you." 


106    TKIAL   OF   COVST   OAaTON    DB   LA    HOCUE   AUDRK- 

jMime  CMt  one  look  of  unutterable  loathing  at  him.  and, 
„i.ing  her  voice,  appealed  directly  to  the  court. 

"  This  man  PremionI "  .he  cried,  boldly,  "  ha.  tned  to  br.be 
me  to  d«eive  the  tribumil.    Though  knowing  that  I  am  a  .uapect, 
he  ha.  offered  to  have  me  conveyed  privately  away.    Therefore, 
I  denoun;e  him  a.  a  plotter  against  the  people! " 
There  was  a  murmur  in  the  court. 

"  For  myKlf,"  went  on  the  brave  girl,  "  I  demand,  if  I  am 
to  be  tried,  a  fair  trial  before  the  court.  I  demand  to  be  taktu 
to  the  ordinary  prison." 

"She  speaks  well,"  cried  several.  "She  shall  not  go  to 
pri«.n.  She  is  a  good  woman  and  a  friind  of  the  people.  She 
has  lived  among  us,  and  we  know  her.    A  bas  Prcmion  1 

"  Ye. ;  i  b<u  Premion !  "  cried  Jeanne,  "  who  makes  money  by 
delivering  up  innocent  people,  and  spends  it  at  the  capital." 

Premion  withdrew,  deadly  pale,  into  a  comer.  He  saw  that 
he  had  overreached  him«lf,  and  he  felt  that  Carrier",  eye  wa. 

upon  him.  „ 

"I  wanted  to  save  the  woman  because  of  old  acquaintance, 
he  stammered.    "  I  knew  she  was  not  a  traitor." 

"The  Bepnblic  acknowledges  no  old  acquainUnce,  said 
Carrier,  severely.  But  it  did  not  suit  him  to  press  matter,  against 
a  confederate. 

"  As  for  you,  Citoyenne,"  he  said,  addressing  Jeanne,  you 
shall  have  your  wi.h.  We  shall  not  trouble  ourselves  to  take  you 
to  prison.  You  are  found  guilty  of  treasonable  word.,  of  contempt 
of  court,  of  abetting  aristocrats.  You  shall  die  to-morrow  at  four 
with  this  execrable  Eoche  Andr6." 

Premion  narrowly  repressed  a  cry  of  agony,  while  Count 
Gaston,  shaking  himself  loose  from  the  grasp  of  hi.  ««u.er. 
.prang  forward. 


THUL   or   OOVHT   OABTOH   DK   LA    ROCHE   ASDKli.     IM 


"  I  protwt,"  he  cried,  "  in  the  name  of  jurtice,  in  the  name 
of  the  nition.  You  thall  not  harm  thin  helpleu  woman,  a 
daughter  of  the  people  like  yoursclvca,  who  has  but  proclaimed 
her  loyalty  to  the  family  which  haa  befriended  her.  Womer  if 
France,  I  appeal  to  you.    She  is  innocent,  wholly  innocent." 

Hia  voice  wa>  vibrant  and  pasaionate  with  that  rare  quality 
which  goea  to  the  heart. 

"  He  i«  right,"  said  some  of  the  women.  "  The  gir!  has  apoken 
fooliahly,  but  ahe  haa  done  no  harm." 

Othera  criid  out  vehemently  to  let  the  ariatocrata  and  their 
friends  pcriah  together. 

"  Men,  citizona,  will  you  permit  this  atrocity  ? "  cried  Oaaton 
again.  "  I  have  liatened  to  charges  against  myself  which  have 
caused  me  to  flush  with  shame.  But  I  am  ready  to  meet  death  as 
a  brave  man  should,  and  to  show  you  upon  the  scafFold  how  a 
gentleman  dies.  You  shall  not  be  balked  of  your  revenge.  I 
admit  love  and  loyalty  to  the  late  monarch,  t  am  proud  to  have 
served  in  the  Royal  Regimrat,  and  to  have  been  present  at  that 
banquet  at  Versailles,  a  last  expression  of  devotion  to  our  hapleaa 
sovereigns.  But  I  implore  you  to  spare  this  woman,  and  1  will 
make  no  defense.    I  will  die  without  protest." 

His  words  produced  an  effect  upon  some,  and  Premion  ven- 
tured to  applaud  them.  He  was  silenced  by  a  threatening  glance 
from  the  President,  who,  with  cold  brutality,  proceeded: 

"  Citizen  Roche  Andri,  wo  have  heard  you,  lying  after  the 
manner  of  your  kind,  but  you  have  forgotten  to  add  to  your  list 
of  indictments  that  which  properly  stands  at  the  head.  You 
have  said  nothing  of  your  conference  at  the  Red  Tnn  of  Saint 
Lyphar  with  the  arch-traitor,  Duplessis,  by  which  you  pledged 
yourself  to  bring  a  force  of  brigands  to  the  camp  at  Grand 
Bordage.    That  story  has  yet  to  be  told.    Witness,  stand  forward  !  " 


no  TKiAL  or  mvvT  oa»tok  dm  la.  Kooaa  audmM. 

Outon  conld  not  rep««  .  tUrt.  Th.  ii«™  w«  mort  unwrt- 
come  to  him.  for,  .Ithough  h«  knew  th.t  he  would  b.  cund«nned 
m  My  event,  he  feared  thrt  thi.  new  evidence  might  «m  to 
implictte  othoM,  and  to  bring  even  hi.  beloved  father  and  mother 
int.  danger.  The  .py,  who  had  overheard  all  that  happened, 
„„  -oceeded  to  give  a  minute  but  highly  colored  account  of 
the  mterview  between  the  two  leader.,  and,  pointing  abruptly  at 
Jeanne,  he  uid : 

"  You  were  right  in  arrcrting  thi.  traitrcw.  She,  too,  wa« 
there  with  another,  and  encouraged  the  brigand,  by  every  mean, 
in  her  power." 

"She  .hall  die!"  wid  Carrier,  .ententiou.ly.  She  .hall 
change  the  little  pleasure  eicuraion  I  had  planned  for  her  to  > 
drive  in  the  national  omnibus." 

So  he  facetiously  called  the  tumbrel. 

«  Vou,  Citiien  Hoche  AndrA,  .hall  go  to  the  guillotine  to- 
morrow at  four,  and  the  woman  Dumartin  .hall  accompany  you. 
I  lilte  to  unite  thoM  who  love  each  other." 

"Shame,  yon  hound  I"  cried  Garton,  while  even  Premion 
clenched  hi.  fist,  convulsively  in  hi.  comer.  And  at  thi.  moment 
an  unexpected  thing  happened.  A  woman  in  a  mobcap,  and 
wearing  the  ordinary  drew  of  the  people,  rtcpped  fcrward. 

"  If  you  arc  to  die,  Ga.ton,  for  no  other  crime  than  that  of 
being  a  true  and  loyal  gentleman,"  she  cried,  "my  place  i.  at 
your  side.  I  am  equally  as  guilty  as  Jeanne.  She  shall  not  die 
alone.  For  me  and  for  those  i  love  .he  has  come  here.  At  least. 
I  will  go  with  her  to  execution." 

For  the  firrt  time  Count  Gaston  turned  deadly  paV  and  showrrt 
.ign.  of  deep  emotion. 

"  My  God ! "  he  mnrmnred.    "  Holy  Mother  of  the  Hedeemcr, 

you  alone  can  «ave  her ! " 


TBtAI,  or  OOVNT  OAMTOS  Dt  LA   HOOHM  AVDR±    til 

"  And  M  the  txU  rolli  t "  cried  the  Pretident,  chnekling  et  hie 
uwn  wit.  "  We  ehall  won  hare  every  woman  iu  the  room  inxioui 
to  die  with  thi>  faaciniting  irietocnt.  But  who  are  ;ou?  Your 
name?" 

"  Yaeult  de  Breteuil." 

Carrier  gave  a  long  whistle. 

"  I  have  juat  aent  my  men  to  the  Convent  of  Angen  in  aeareh 
of  you.  So,  they  thought  yuu  were  lafe  with  the  holy  nuna,  ho, 
ho  I  inatead  of  at  Nantea,  where  the  pretty  Count  waa  to  be  aecn." 

"  Cease  your  intolerable  brutality,"  cried  Oaaton,  "  and  go 
on  with  the  trial !  " 

"Oh,  my  popinjay,  I'll  go  on  faat  enough,"  he  aaid,  "and 
you'll  have  thia  pretty  bit  of  womankind  with  you  to-morrow 
aftemc     on  your  driving  party.    Don't  be  afraid." 

He  then  turned  to  Yaeult. 

"  Your  condition  P  "  he  aaked,  roughly. 

"  Connteu  de  Breteuil." 

"Your  relation  to  thia  man?" 

Yaeult  hesitated.  For  the  firat  time  it  flashed  upon  her  that 
ehe  had  placed  heraelf  in  a  false  position. 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  claim  her  aa  my  betrothed  wife,"  int< 
poaed  Oaaton,  "though  the  formal  ceremony  haa  not  yet  taken 
place." 

Yaeult  flashed  a  quick  glance  of  gratitude  toward  her  chival- 
rous young  lover. 

"Is  it  as  he  says ? "  inquired  Carrier, 

Yeeult  bent  her  head. 

"  Then,"  aaid  the  wretch,  with  his  cold,  malicious  aneer,  "  as 
there  is  no  marriage  in  the  heaven  of  the  aristocrats,  1  ahall 
have  to  send  you  both  to  hell  to  celebrate  your  weddin);.  We  have 
plenty  of  evidence  jgainat  yon.  Mistress.    Your  treaeonahle  talk 


!!' 


lia    TRIAL   or   OOVNT   OASTOS   DE   LA   BOOBE   AKDB^. 

and  conspiracy  with  traitor,  at  the  Red  Inn  of  Saint  Lyphar  are 
before  us  in  writing.    Witness,  identify  this  woman." 

The  mm-culoile.  who  had  already  figured  so  largely  in  the 
trial,  eagerly  obeyed.  He  swore  without  doubt  that  Yseu  t  had 
been  present  at  the  inn,  and  had  urged  on  the  brigands  to  kill 
aU  the  Blues. 

There  were  pity  and  admiration  on  the  faces  of  many.  But 
none  dared  speak.    The  fate  of  Jeanne  had  awed  them. 

"Can  we  not  find  a  husband  for  the  Dumartin  woman? 
asked  Carrier,  with  the  coarse  humor  habitual  to  him,  "that  we 
sl,™ld  have  a  quartet.    I  am  fond  of  weddings  myself." 

His  cold  eyes  rested  on  Premion,  who  cowered.  But  it  passed 
over  him  again.     Premion  was  useful. 

"  Citizen,"  said  the  accuser  of  Count  Gaston  and  the  two 
girls,  "  I  have  knowledge  that  the  woman  before  you  has  promised 
to  marry  the  notorious  traitor,  Duplessis." 

"Capital!"  cried  Carrier.  "Bring  him  here  without  delay. 
Is  he  at  Nantes?  " 

"  In  the  prison  of  the  Clock  Tower." 

Carrier  referred  to  his  notes.  J'  He  is,  then,  the  arch  enemy 
of  the  people,  Richard  Duplessis?" 

"  The  same."  ^    ^. 

«  Cause  him  to  be  brought  hither.    They  shall  .11  dance  to  the 

same  tune."  . 

A  messenger  was  despatched,  and  deep  silence  fell  upon  the 
waiting  court.  Count  Gaston  exchanged  with  Yseult  glances 
which  conveved  far  more  to  her  than  the  most  eloquent  protests 
of  affection,"  and  ho  contrived  at  last  to  draw  near  where  die 
stood,  with  her  hand  resting  upon  Jeanne's  shoulder.    

"You  have  done  me  infinite  honor,  Mademoiselle,  he 
whispered. 


TBIAL   OF   COUNT   OASTON  DB   LA    ROCHE   AJfDBE.    118 

"  There  wu  no  choice,"  Yseult  said,  with  her  eyes  upon  the 
floor. 

"  Had  there  b«;n,  would  you  have  had  things  otherwise?  " 

Yeeult  hesitated  a  moment,  then  she  answered : 

"At  such  a  moment  concealments  are  idle.  No,  Gaston;  I 
would  not  have  it  otherwise." 

"Let  me  offer  you  now,  in  this  terrible  scene,  my  full  and 
entire  devotion,  the  love  of  a  whole  life.  I  am  yours  in  death,  as 
I  would  have  been  in  life." 

"  And  I  pledge  myself  likewise  to  you,"  cried  Yseult.  "  0, 
Gaston,  we  love  each  other,  and  that  is  the  only  brightness  in  the 
gloom." 

"  Courage,  my  dearest.    Death,  after  all,  is  but  a  step  to  life." 

"  It  vrill  be  easy,  since  we  die  together,"  answered  Yseult. 

"  Silence,  there ! "  roared  Carrier,  who  had  perceived  the  two 
whispering.    "  Separate  the  prisoners." 

But  those  few  words  had  been  enough.  Each  felt  that  they 
lifted  a  weight  from  the  other's  heart.  Gaston  had  been  anxious 
to  seize  the  first  possible  moment  to  declare  his  love  for  Yseult, 
feeling  that  she  had  been  placed  in  a  difficult  position  by  the 
announcement  of  a  betrothal  which  had  never  really  taken  place, 
and  which  presupposed  that  declaration  on  his  part  had  not  as 
yet  been  put  into  words. 

And  he  heard  the  avowal  of  love  from  her  lips  with  a  feeling 
of  intense  joy  and  thankfulness.  He  had  always  loved  her  with 
the  tender,  chivalrous  love  of  his  fine  nature,  and  had  dreamed 
of  her  as  his  wife,  while  from  boyhood  upward  he  had  admired 
her  with  a  passionate  admiration  as  the  type  of  all  that  is  beautiful 
and  lovable  in  womanhood.  Yseult,  on  the.  other  hand,  thon^ 
she  had  long  known  of  Gaston's  sentiments  toward  her,  had  re- 
joiced at  the  force  and  sincerity  which  he  had  put  into  the  few 


Ui    TRIAL   or   COV^T   OASTOy   DE   LA   ROCHE   AUDRE. 

,„ra»  it  had  been  possible  in  such  surroundings  to  speak  They 
were  betrothed  now;  in  the  eyes  of  heaven,  at  least  no  fomal 
ceremony  could  ,„ake  them  more  to  each  other,  and  she  w  s  glad 
in  the  consciousness  that,  had  their  marriage  ever  taken  place,  .t 
would  not  have  been  one  of  those  merely  convonUonal  umons  so 
common  in  France.  It  was  curious  how  this  feehng  o  gladne 
predominated  over  those  other  emotions  of  fear,  of  horror,  of 

dreadful  expectancy. 

Presently  the  messenger  returned  from  the  prison. 

MVhere  is  the  prisoner?"  demanded  C-rrier,  impatiently. 
"  He  can  not  attend  the  tribunal." 
"For  what  reason?" 
<•  He  died  this  morning  at  three  o'clock." 
Now   even  when  deaths  were  of  an  hourly  occurrence,    here 
was  an  impressiveness  about  this  announcement  which  struck  all 

^"" mere  is  the  Citizen  Undriot,  his  jailer,  late  valet  to  an 

aristocrat  ?  " 

"  Gone  to  superintend  the  burial."  ^^ 

«  Can  he  not  be  found  ?    I  wish  to  speak  with  him  here. 
"  I  will  find  him,  if  possible.  Citizen." 

There  was,  meanwhile,  a  bustle  and  stir  among  the  prisoners. 
Jeanne  had  fainted.     Count  Gaston  and  Yseult  bent  over  her, 
murmuring  exclamations  of  horror  at  the  news.    Premion  gave 
vent  to  a  fearful  oath.    Duplessis  had,  then,  escaped  his  vengeance. 
.Teanne,  by  plentiful  apphcations  of  cold  water,  was  brought    o 
;,erself      Premion  drew  near  as  she  came  to  herself,  and  with 
pale  face  and  eyes  ablaze  scornfully  regarded  him: 
"  You,  you  arc  his  murderer!  "  she  cried. 
Premion  made  a  deprecatory  gesture. 
"It  is  the  more  to  be  regretted,"  he  said  blandly,      since 


TRIAL   OF   OODNT   OABTOy   DE   LA    ROCHE   ANDRE.     115 


the  Citizen  Duplessis  had  offered  to  give  testimony  which  would 
implicate  the  Marquis  de  la  Boche  Andr^,  his  wife,  and  younger 
Bon." 

"  It  is  false ! "  cried  Jeanne. 

"  You  base  cur ! "  exclaimed  the  Count,  furiously.  "  Can 
you  respect  nothing,  not  even  the  dead?  " 

**  I  have  here  a  memorandum  signed  by  himself,"  declared 
Premion,  "  which  you  are  free  to  examine." 

"  I  will  look  at  nothing,  hear  nothing,  against  this  man  who 
was  my  friend,"  cried  Gaston,  vehemently.  "  I  knew  him  to  be 
loyal  alike  to  faith  an     friends  and  country." 

Jeanne  cast  upon  him  a  look  full  of  gratitude. 

**  It  matters  not,  since  the  fellow  is  dead,"  interposed  Carrier. 
"  He  would  have  sold  these  aristocrats  to-day,  they  him  to- 
morrow, if  the  chance  offered,  and  what  would  it  matter  to  honest 
republicans?  I  must  cause  e  searching  inquiry  into  the  manner 
of  his  death,  and,  perhaps,  I  may  send  this  precious  ex-valet, 
who  had  the  charge  of  him,  to  make  up  Madame  Guillotine's 
quartet.    He  should  not  have  let  him  die." 

But  as  the  ex-jailer  could  not  be  found,  the  court  was  de- 
clared adjourned,  and  the  prisoners  were  ordered  to  be  conveyed 
back  to  the  dungeon  of  the  condemned,  under  the  ominous 
clock. 

Henriot,  who  had  been  despatched  to  Nantes,  hastened  home 
with  the  fearful  tidings.  He  contrived  to  see  the  Marquis  first, 
that  he  might  acquaint  him  with  all  that  had  occurred.  The 
Marquis  received  it  with  the  composure  and  dignity  of  a  gentle- 
man and  a  true  Christian.  But  it  was  a  sore  task  to  repeat  that 
awful  news  to  his  wife,  the  more  so  that  he  now  regretted  he 
had  not  sooner  gone  to  Nantes  and  made  an  effort,  at  least,  to 
eave  his  tsou.     He  had  been  prevented  from  so  doing  by  the 


m 


in    TBIAL   OF   COVyT   OA-STON    DE   LA   ROCHB   AXDRB. 
counselB  of  that  mysterious  man,  who  had  failed  completely  in 

his  promises. 

The  Marquis  found  his  wife  seated,  with  a  copy  of  the  Imita- 
tion "  in  her  hands,  near  the  latticed  window  of  her  chamber. 

"  My  dearest,"  he  said,  seating  himself  beside  her,  "  you  have 
your  thoughts  fixed  even  now  on  the  ultimate  destiny  of  all    . 
Christians."  , 

"  Yes,  Albert,"  she  answered,  "  my  heart  is  sad  and  heavy  with 
premonitions  of  coming  evil,  and  I  am  reading  here  those  royal 
maxims  of  faith,  which,  alas !  are  so  far  above  me." 

'-•  What  verse  were  you  reading? "  inquired  the  Marquu. 
Madame  read  aloud : 

" '  Thou  shouldst  rather  rejoice  and  give  thanks,  yea,  account 
this  as  a  special  subject  of  joy,  that,  afflicting  thee  with  sorrows, 
I  do  not  spare  thee ! ' 

"  That  is  a  hard  saying,  Albert,"  she  commented. 
The  Marquis  spoke  very  gently. 

«  Can  you  rejoice  and  give  thanks  that,  afflicting.  He  does  not 
spare  thee?"  he  asked. 

"My  God,  my  husband!"  cried  Madame,  ''what  would  you 
say'    What  tidings  have  you  to  communicate?" 

"Have  patience,  have  courage,  my  beloved  Adrlenne.  News 
has  reached  me  from  Nantes.    Gaston  is  condemned  to  die." 

The  mother  covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  giving  utter- 
ance to  a  cry  of  anguish  so  piercing  that,  lough  not  loud  it 
rang  out  upon  the  air,  startling  a  mother  bird  which  was  feeding 
its  young  in  a  nest  near  the  window. 

"There  is  nothing  wanting  of  nobility,  generosity,  piety, 
courage,"  went  on  the  Marquis.  "  He  will  die  as  a  true  son  of 
France  and  of  the  Church." 

"Oh,  my  first-bom,  my  well  beloved,"  wailed  the  mother,  in 


THIAL   OF  OOVKT   aABTOl/   DE   LA    ROCHE   AKDR£.     Ill 

a  grief  that  seemed  for  the  moment  impervious  to  consoktion, 
and  which  seemed  to  isolate  her  even  from  her  husband. 

"  And  he  will  not  die  alone ! "  continued  the  Marquis. 

The  mother  waited,  asking  no  question. 

"  Yseult  do  Breteuil  is  with  him  I  " 

Madame,  startled  out  of  her  lethargy,  repeated: 

"Yseult?" 

"  I  will  tell  you  the  whole  sad  story,"  resumed  the  Marquis, 
"and  how  that  humble  heroine  may  be  said  to  have  given  her 
life  ill  trying  to  save  our  boy  by  creating  a  diversion  in  his  favor." 

Madame  listened  witn  drooping  head  while  her  husband  re- 
lated to  r  every  detail  of  that  strange  scene  in  the  court-room, 
as  it  was  reported  by  Henriot,  bo  full  of  poetry  and  romance,  of 
chivalry  and  self-devotion,  on  the  one  hand,  so  overladen  with 
horror  and  foulness  and  black  iniquity,  on  the  other.  When  the 
narrative  wat  at  an  end,  husband  and  wife  sat  together  silently 
awhile,  striving  each  for  the  other's  sake  to  master  the  sorrow 
which  consumed  them  both.  Then  the  Marquis,  taking  the  hook 
from  his  wife's  hand,  turned  to  the  forty-eighth  chapter,  and 
read  aloud,  in  a  voice  quivering  with  deep  emotion ; 

" '  Oh,  most  happy  mansion  of  the  supernal  city. 

Oh,  most  bright  day  of  eternity,  which  no  night  ever  ob- 
scureth. 

" '  A  day  always  joyful,  always  serene,  and  never  changing  its 
state  for  the  contrary. 

" '  Oh,  that  this  day  would  shine  forth.  It  shineth,  indeed,  for 
the  saints,  resplendent  with  everlasting  brightness. 

" '  The  citizens  of  heaven  know  how  ;'  vfnl  that  day  is.' " 

Madame's  face  had  gradually  brightened  til!  it  wore  a  look 
almost  of  exultation. 


!  I  >  ! 


have  to  die  by  the  guillotine,"  Ba.d  the  Marque, 

^-^MirtsaidtheMa^.--^-^:^- 
Crna:::!"'::;'...    B.whieKXi.e,tHat.el.aa. 

™w  .o-ne  final.  ^J^  J,  t^  Madame ;"  let  u,  besiege  heaven 
•' Let  us  pray  for  him,    cneu  ^^ 

,ith  our  supplications  that  his  plan  may  succeed. 
A^dtoS'"  they  passed  into  the  oratory. 


CITIZBS  PRSMIOH  UBET8  AH  OLD  ACQVAJNTANCE      lit 


CHAPTER  IX 


OmZEN  PBEUIOK  MEETS  AN  OLD  ACQUAINTANCE. 


When  Count  Gaston  de  la  Roche  Andrt  was  marched  from 
the  Revolutionary  tribunal  to  hia  prison  in  the  Clock  Tower, 
escorted  by  half  a  score  of  pikemen,  on  the  day  of  his  condtnina- 
tion,  he  was  greeted  with  fierce  denunciations  as  the  slayer  of 
innocents,  the  opprt>«sor  of  the  poor,  the  haughty  aristocrat,  the 
leader  of  La  Vendue,  who  had  been  about  to  bring  his  brigands 
to  bum  the  town  and  put  all  honest  Blues  to  death.  Ga.«ton's 
mien  was  simple,  frank,  and  manly,  according  to  his  wont,  but 
his  almost  boyish  face  had  an  added  touch  of  dignity,  for  sorrow 
is  ennobling.  In  his  whole  carriage  was  the  grace  and  simple 
elegance  that  usually  comes  of  long  descent  and  gentle  breeding. 
One  woman  alone  in  the  crowd  bent  her  head  as  he  passed.  Per- 
haps she  had  sons  of  her  own,  or  possibly  she  had  received, 
in  happier  days,  some  kindness  from  the  family  of  Roche  Andr6. 

Premion  remained  in  his  room  the  rest  of  that  day.  He  had 
not  wished  to  appear  so  conspicuously  in  the  trial  of  Gaston  de  la 
Roche  Andr^,  and  he  was  very  much  exercised,  too,  over  a  letter 
which  he  had  just  received.  It  threw  out  hints  that  Richard 
Duplessis  might  not  be  dead  after  all.  Now,  the  sudden  and 
somewhat  mysterious  death  of  the  prisoner  of  the  Clock  Tower 
had  been  a  fearful  blow  to  the  lawyer.  He  felt  that  he  had  been 
balked  of  the  full  sweetness  of  revenge.  He  had  intendid  that 
Richard  should  die,  hut  not  until  he  had  drawn  nut  a  lingering 
confinement,  tortured  by  the  thought  of  Jeanne  in  the  power  of 


lao   ciTiisBy  rBtuioN  ustTS  as  old  aoooa/xtawo*. 

hia  rival— not  until  his  character  had  b«en  blackened  in  the  eyes 
of  Jeanne  by  char(ree  of  treachery  toward  the  Roche  Andrfa. 

This  anonymous  letter,  therefore,  roused  Premion  to  a  pitch 
of  excitement  which  threatened  to  bring  on  a  seizure,  and  re- 
minded him  of  the  fact  that  the  ex-valct,  whom  he  trusted  im- 
plicitly, and  to  whom  he  had  confided  various  important  com- 
missions, had  not  been  seen  since  the  burial  of  Duplessis,  nor 
could  .ny  trace  of  him  be  discovered.  He  had  hastened  to 
Premion  v.Hh  the  news  of  Richard's  illness,  had  begged  permission 
to  bring  a  av?tor,  and  had  seemed  animated  by  a  very  passion 
of  republican  zial.  It  was  upon  him  the  lawyer  had  relied  to 
secure  from  Richard  some  statement  which  might  be  distorted 
into  an  accusation  against  the  Koche  Andrfa. 

The  darkest  auspicious  concerning  his  late  confederate  began 
now  to  take  root  in  Premion's  mind.  It  was  clear  that  he  had 
been  a  traitor,  and  had  planned  not  Richard's  ruin,  but  his  rescne, 
and  he,  Morin-Premion,  had  been  the  dupe  and  the  tool  of  an 
impostor.  While  he  was  full  of  the  anger  and  bitterness  of  this 
discovery,  a  woman  came  to  the  door,  and,  her  knock  remaining 
unanswered,  opened  it  and  entered  with  a  basket  of  clothes.  Pre- 
mion roared  at  her  to  get  out  of  the  room,  and  as  she  retreated,  lay- 
ing down  her  basket,  he  seized  her  by  the  arm  and  rudely  pushed 
her,  so  that  she  came  within  an  ace  of  falling  down  the  stairs, 
which  were  just  outside. 

"  You  may  push  me,  Citizen  Premion,"  said  the  woman, 
turning  half  way  down  the  steps  to  flash  back  deflance  at  him, 
"  but  your  own  turn  will  come,  and  when  you  fall  few,  indeed,  will 
mourn." 

"  Begone,  beldame ! "  he  cried  fiercely,  "  or  I  shall  send  yon 
on  one  of  Citizen  Carrier's  pleasure  boats  to  help  with  his  under- 
ground fort" 


OITIZSlf  PREUlOtI  MBtTB  AS  OLD  ACQVAIXTANCB.     lil 

Thii  wu  in  allUBion  to  what  were  c«lled  the  noyada.  »  eyatem 
deviled  by  thi«  monster  of  the  Hevolution  to  destroy,  at  one  blow, 
a  whole  cargo  of  priests  and  aristocrats. 

"  If  you  do  send  me  there,"  said  the  woman,  with  a  scornful 
laugh,  "  I  will  be  in  better  company  than  you  ever  were  in  in  your 
life.    But  1  should  think  you  had  deaths  enough  on  your  souL" 

"  You  shall  answer  for  this  insolence  at  the  tribunal,"  roared 
Premion. 

"  The  last  fish  you  caught  in  your  net  ought  to  have  been 
enough  for  you-the  son  of  the  man  who  fed  your  mother  when 
she  was  sUrving,  and  aided  her  to  educate  you." 

Premion  was  silent,  partly  from  rage,  partly  from  astonish- 
ment,  that  this  woman  should  know  these  hidden  pages  of  his 
history. 

"  Then  there  was  Hichard  Duplessis,  who  one  time  saved  your 
life.    But  he  has  escaped  you." 

There  was  something  almost  triumphant  in  this  last  expres- 
sion. 

"  And  now  you  are  plotting  to  get  into  your  power,  to  send, 
for  aught  I  know,  to  death,  the  betrothed  of  Monsieur  Gaston 
and  yoar  own  sweetheart." 

With  *he8e  words  she  flew  quickly  down  the  remaining  stairs, 
whiie  Premion  sprang  furiously  forward,  and  would  have  followed 
her.  But  an  instinct  of  prudence  restrained  him.  The  woman 
might  he  armed.  The  fate  of  Marat,  "  friend  of  the  people," 
was  stiU  fresh  in  his  mind.  She  turned  on  the  last  step  and 
threw  back  at  him  c  final  look  of  mockery. 

"  Have  you  asked  the  Citizen  Undriot,  the  ex-valet,  to  ex- 
plain the  cause  of  Duplessis's  death?"  she  asked.  "He  will  live 
to  marry  his  sweetheart  yet,  who  belongs  rightfully  tv  him,  and 
see  you  dance  to  Mother  uoillotine's  tune." 


l-remion  -prang  furiou.ly  down  the  .t.|r.. 
"  Seize  that  «oman,"  he  -houted  angtily  to  two  or  thm  men 
.        u    »      ■'  Shi.  is  a  royal  lit  »py.  »  *«  to 
who  stood  lounging  about.        She  u  a  n>y 

swallowed  her.     The  lawyer,  m  m  ^^.^^ 

the  afternoon  had  written  the  anonymous  letter. 


■  -  .„^  »a  Morin-Premion  threw  open  the 

pitiful  eyes.  godfather,  and 

Then  the  Marquis  had  come  in,  like  some  lairy  g^ 

that  mans  sun  .-  me  g  ^^^  bestowed 


OlTltMy  rntMIOS  UMtTS  an  old  ACDUAIHTAllCa.     lU 


now  UDUied  in  hia  cue,  and  ita  former  owner  poeMwaed  t  (ir 
more  coatly  one.  But  vividly,  la  t  flaah,  came  the  {eeling  he  had 
then  experienced  of  intenae  gratitude  toward  that  high-bom  lady 
who  had  aeemed  to  him  then  to  belong  to  another  aphere.  And  it 
waa  her  firet-bom  he  waa  aending  to  the  acaflold. 

He  leaned  far  out  of  the  window,  for  the  morning  air  waa  cool 
on  hia  face,  fevered  with  the  vi^il  of  the  night  and  with  all 
tbeae  diaquieting  thoughta.  But  under  the  blue  of  the  aky  he 
aaw  only  Saint  Lyphar  and  theee  people  who  had  belonged  to  hia 
own  youth.  He  recalled  a  certain  occasion  when  a  beautiful  young 
lady  had  ridden  past  him  upon  a  anow-white  palfrey.  He  had 
thought  her  then  the  fairest  creature  in  all  God's  wonderful 
creation,  and  as  high  above  him  as  the  stars,  and  she  had  smiled 
at  him  and  thanked  him  ao  prettily  when  he  had  opened  a  gate 
for  her.  And  now  ahe  waa  to  be  dragged  from  a  loathsome 
dungeon,  to  be  flouted  by  evil  men,  and  to  die  on  the  guillotine 
if  it  so  pleased  him.  He  wished  for  one  brief  instant  that  he 
could  save  them  all.  Then  the  thought  of  Duplessis  occurred 
to  him,  his  implacable  hatred  of  the  man  burned  up,  and  he 
steeled  his  heart. 

He  remembered  swiftly  every  schoolboy  encounter  in  which 
Richard  had  been  victorious,  the  open  preference  which  Jeanne 
Dumartin  had  shown  for  him,  and  the  favor  of  the  young  Count. 
In  Dupleesis's  defense.  Count  Gaston  had  given  him  a  blow,  and 
for  that  blow  he  should  die.  As  for  the  beautiful  lady,  well,  she 
had  chosen  her  lot.  Let  her  die  with  her  lover.  And  Jeanne — 
the  guillotine  should  have  her,  too,  unless  he  could  himself  secure 
her  or  be  assured  of  Duplessis's  death.  He  dressed  himself  then, 
and  wandered  aimlessly  through  the  streets  for  hours,  turning  his 
feet  at  last  in  the  direction  of  the  Place  de  la  Guillotine,  where 
crowda,  particularly  of  women,  were  already  hurrying.    He  took 


,M    0/TI«*  J-Ml"0»  MEMTB  AS  OLD  ACQVAiyrSSCM. 

up  hi.  .t.tion  J«.t  oufide  th.  -loo,,  wher..  he  ""'^  -  "J^ 
It  on  without  Uing  «.n.  The  women,  ..  t  ey  P"*"*!-  "-> 
It  inviting  him  to  come  forth  to  the  fe,tiv..  "'^^^'^f^^^ 
"There  i.  .  .plendid  crtful,  Cit.«n."  ened  one  pr.ct.. 
nun.,  .  noble  or  two,  .  republic.n  who  «..  caught  help.ng  . 
TZ  e«.p*,  .nd,  be.t  of  .11.  the  young  Count  and  h,«  .weethe.rt^ 
KrhTnd«,m;  fellow,  thi.  Boche  And,.  I  wi.h,  .n.ead  o^ 
killing  .11  the«  flne-looking  nri.tocrat..  they  would  find  them 
w.ve.  among  the  Bine.,  th-  daughter,  of  the  Repubhe. 

C  w'.  a  -hriek  -f  laughter  at  thi«  .ally,  in  wh.ch  Prem.on 
fonid  Mm,«lf  to  jo.n.  Hi.  quiclc  eye  .uddenly  cught  ..ght 
t  w^:.n  who  h.d  deride!  him  but  ye.t.day.  He  wa— 
Z\»  identity  though  »he  wa.  differently  .tt.red.  She  stood 
h  idW  the  building,  a  proud,  cold  look  upon  her  face 
Z  i  h  .he  corned  tho.  about  her.  Premion, '"  w.tclnng  he  , 
t^rnoted  an  old  man,  clad  a.  a  country  ruat.c,  w.th  long 
?  v.,  u  h.ir  falling  over  hi.  .hoUder.  and  .  gener.1  «r  of 
:r.im;:Lir.-ri.    He«em«..ind^.-r,outof 

^■^T^irPre'o";::.  the  countryman  to  pa»  nn 
.Wd    the  Utter    more  vigilant,  had  observed  the  lawyer  m 
rlel       n^  he  had  Lned  to  the  banter  of  the  women 
If  the  Iple     One  pair  of  eyes,  however,  dwelt  cunously  upon 

"°.«nc.,"  said  the  woman  near  her,  "the  bell  of  Saint 
Oil.  Ser  >;  ringing  two  o'clock.  There  are  two  hour,  to 
wait." 


«mw  ,HEMIOy  JfMM  AN  OLD  AOQVjUSTAHCt.     M 

"One  could  w.it  /«„,  f„,  th^  plewure  we  .hill  hire,"  Mid 
he  other.  ,„d  .h..  let  her  g.«.  f„|l„*  that  of  her  noighlK,r  to  the 
t.ll  «t.^ple  in  the  di,t.me,  ju,t  touched  b,  the  .unlight,  u.d 
whince  the  bell  pealed  forth  the  hour. 

"It  will  b,.  .  mvrry  aiKht,"  .,i,|  the  flr»t  speaker;  "above  all 
Ctircn  Roche  Andri,  with  hi.  .weetheart.  and  th.  woman  Du- 
martin." 

The  listener',  face  darkened  at  the  raention  of  thi.  l..t  name 
That  1,  one  who  shall  die!  "  .he  muttered.  "  I  will  «e  to 
that.  I  will  follow  the  cart  .top  by  .tep,  and  I  .hall  not  lo.e 
..ght  of  her  for  the  twinkling  of  .„  eye.  Richard  Ih.p|e«i, 
shall  lo«,  hi.  fine  .weetheart,  who  consorted  with  arirtocrat.  and 
preached  to  her  equals." 

As  .he  .poke  .he  flx«l  her  eyes  upon  the  rustic,  almoat  a. 
though  .he  were  addressing  him,  and  continurf  her  meditation.. 
"  A.  for  the  Count,  I  would  have  him  live,  if  I  could,  and  he 
might  have  the  wax  doll  to  whom  he  i.  betrothed.  And  the 
DM...  and  prie.t,,  I  would  save  them.  too.  Once  I,  t"o,  n«d  to 
kneel  to  a  pri,«t,  and  tell  my  sins,  nnd  k-lieve  his  word»  of  pare'  n 
and  peace,  and,  oh,  God !  I  wa.  happy." 

It  wa.  well  for  her  that  during  this  strange  soliloquy  her 
companion,  were  too  much  absorbed  in  what  was  going  forward 
eagerly  lending  their  voices  to  the  tumult  of  shouts,  eriea' 
laughter,  and  jests.  So  that  it  was  only  the  rustic  who  gave  her 
:e  attention. 
"  Yon  scorned  me  once,  Richard  Duplessis,"  she  went  on,  in 
the  same  fierce  monologue;  "you  preferred  to  me  a  pudding-faced 
wench  who  might  have  driven  the  plow.  She  is  giving  her"life  to 
save  you.    Be  it  so.    Once  I  would  have  given  mine." 

She  broke  off  with  a  half  sob  which  did  not  e«:ape  the  notice 
of  the  obwrvant  countryman. 


liliili 


"^l  Wa,e  that  ,ou„  .  not  an.o.g  ^h-  ^a^  *-*""«^ 
.„d  startling  reply.    But  the  rustic  wa«  notj^be  ™oved. 
"  You  were  weeping,  good  m.stres8,    he  sa.d  _ 

"Faith,  not  I!"  answered  the  woman  proudly,        tell  y 
again,  beware,  or  you  will  have  cauae  to  w«^     ^_  ^^^^ 

"  I  came  from  the  country  to  see  the  sights, 
on,  imperturbably.  ^^ 

"  From  the  seashore,  perhaps?  toteUigenoe 

T^ere  was  no  ^^^^f-^^Xeltf  Zr..t^-    Then  the 
which  shone  for  an  instant  in  the  eyes 
eyes  were  veiled,  and  he  replied : 

'•  From  Morbihan  way."  ji„Wa  ears' 

For  there  is  one  of  the  prisoners  who  must 
I  will  denounce  you.    For  tnere  is  "■> 

die."  .,  „  monv"  said  the  rustic, 

"Ma  foi,  it  seems  to  me  there  are  many,    saia 

'"' ;;roLs  may  drown  or  be  shot,  or  stay  alive,  for  all  of 
'"^Ct::;";  whom  you,  Citoyenne,  are  interested." 

inquired  the  rustic,  slowly^  Tell  Richard  Duplessis  from 

.  That  one  is  .Joanne  ^^^^'^^  ^'^^^.^  ^J,,  that  it  i. 

not  Bucceed." 


OmZES  PREMION  MEETS  AN  OLD  ACQUAJNTAKCB.     137 

"  But  I  have  heard  talk  in  the  crowds  here  of  this  Richard 
DupleasiB,  who  is  a  leader  of  the  brigands,  and  '  -t  said  that  ho 
died  in  prison." 

A  low  laugh  broke  from  the  woman,  1 1'.t  sht  said  nc  .iiore, 
for  at  that  moment  Premion,  issuing  fron  ''  o  wine  she ),  laid 
a  detaining  hand  upon  the  shoulder  of  Thercse  Duvai. 

"You  will  come  with  me  and  explain  your  words  of  yes- 
terday," he  said,  "and,  if  they  do  not  bear  explanation,  to  the 
tumbrel  with  you !  It  will  give  a  spice  of  variety  to  see  a 
knitter  of  the  guillotine  occupying  a  place  in  the  nation's 
chariot." 

Th^rJse  looked  around,  disconcerted  for  the  moment.  She 
had  forgotten  the  lawjer,  on  whom  she  had  determined  to  keep 
watch.  Her  eyes  sought  those  of  the  rustic,  but  he  had  dis- 
appeared. She  stood  a  moment  uncertain,  Premion  meanwhile 
scanning  her  face  with  attention. 

"  I  have  seen  you  before,"  he  declared. 

"  You  all  but  threw  me  downstairs  some  hours  ago." 

"Before  that,  again." 

"Your  memory  is  a  good  one,  and  your  eyes  see  far  hack. 
Perhaps  it's  as  well  they  don't  see  too  far  ahead." 

"  Cease  your  chatter,"  said  Premion,  angrily.  "  Whoever  yon 
may  be,  you  arc  my  prisoner  now.  Come  with  me  to  the  wine  shop. 
If  you  can  satisfy  mo  there,  you  go  free.  If  you  can  not,  then  to 
the  guillotine." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,  for  your  promises,"  she  said,  with  a  mocking 
cnrtsy. 

"  Sir  me  no  sir.    I  am  simple  Citizen  Premion." 

"  A  nice  citizen,  too,  and,  as  you  say,  simple,  to  be  tricked," 
cried  the  woman,  saucily,  "  by  an  ex-valet,  and — " 

It  was  on  her  tongue  to  say  that  he  was  about  to  be  tricked 


1«     cmZBy  PREM.O.  MBErS  AX  OLD  .Cg.AiXTAXC*. 

of  Count  Garton'.  g.Uant  beanng  yesterday  at  the Jn 

„,  the  lovolv  young  creature  at  h.  ^^^^^^^^^^^^  ,,„„« 

«  I  will  look  out  for  Jeanne!     she  mi  toheraell, 
a  J  d'Argent  .uceecd  in  freeing  the  other,,  and  what 
he  here  for,  dressed  like  a  countryman  •  ^^^^^^^ 

"What  are  you  muttering?"  asked  Premion  wn 

guillotine.    See,  I  have  my  knitting  here." 

f:rri::::rr7"ichfor.e^e:>^art.,.. 

f:trha:;—"ongind:ision.^e  woman  read 
'''■"Why  are  you  so  intent  upon  her  destruetion?"  asked  Pre- 

"^:r^":^i:^— ^--"^"'^'""^ 

Duplessis"  answered  the  —  ^^^^^^  ^^^  ^  ,^„,„, 

Premion  started.     Ths  woma  ^^.^^^^  ^^^^^ 

in,ght  into  ^^^''-^y  ;'X^t  arew  her  hastily  into 

she  knew  something  of  his  history. 

the  wine  shop,  whieh  was  just  «^en  -tenanted. 
.<  Who  are  you  ?  "  he  demanded  suddenly 
The  woman  gave  a  careless  laugh.       Why  sho 

it?    You  may,  perhaps,  remember  Thhtee  I^^"'' 
«  And  are  vou  she? "  cried  Premion  ,n  amazement. 


CITIZES  PRBMION  MEETS  A::  OLD  ACQVAlNTAJfCB.     lit 

"  You  may  weU  ask,"  Th^rtse  said,  with  a  defiance  which  wa. 
not  without  a  tinge  of  sadness. 

"Tiid  village  beauty!"  exclaimed  Premion.     "Why,  I  was 
one  of  your  admirers  myself." 

"Before  you  met  Jeanne  Dumartin,"  Thirise  assented,  com- 
posedly.    «  But  let  that  pass.    I  cared  as  little  for  you  or  your  ad- 
miration as  the  flower  cares  for  the  butterfly  that  flutters  by." 
Premion  bit  his  lip. 

"  I  was,  as  you  say,  the  village  beauty,"  continued  TUiise 
Duval.    "  I  had  every  clodhopper  in  the  place  at  my  feet.    There 
was  but  one  I  wanted,  and  it  is  that  one  about  whom  so  much  love 
and  so  much  hate  now  center— Richard  Duplessis." 
"Curse  the  fellow!" 

"  Yes ;  curse  him  if  you  will.  He  scorned  my  advances,  made 
light  of  my  prettiness,  and  from  the  first  threw  himself  with 
the  devotion  which  only  such  strong  natures  can  feel  at  the  feet 
of  Jeanne  Dumartin.  He  was  her  slave,  her  call-boy,  her  very 
shadow." 

She  paused,  the  full  bitterness  of  what  she  said  reflected  in 
her  face. 

"And  mark  you,  Citizen  Premion,  the  girl  loved  him  de- 
votedly.   She  is  giving  her  life  for  him,  and  I—" 

Her  voice  broke  and  ended  in  a  wail  of  anguish. 

"  I  am  striving  to  deprive  him  of  the  sweetness  of  that  love. 
For  you  have  missed  your  aim,  Morin-Promion.  Richard  still 
lives,  and  I  rejoice  at  it.  But  with  regard  to  the  girl,  I  shall 
not  fail,  I  warn  you." 

Premion  stood  very  white  and  still.  At  last  his  dry  lips  framed 
the  words : 

"  If  Duplessis  lives,  I  have  not  the  wish,  any  more  than  the 
povicr,  to  save  her." 


The  sound  of  tu:nultuous  shouting  ju.t  then  reached  their 

""-.QuicK  let  n,e  go;  they  «e  eo^ing!"  ..id  the  breath,^. 

'^L  .haU  n.t  go  tm  an  U  .ade  ^W'  ^^  J~ 
,  ;  K.      "I  have  heard  you  utter  treasonable  words.     Kou 

"'^;s::::^■"er«.  "iteuyouin,u..oii.. 

the  tul::  a  .euth  hound  follows  its  prey,  lest  one  chance  of 

"^'^;i;:!;!:ld  Morin-lWon.  «  I  shaU  detain  you  «11^ 
■  ■     *  .      Tt  wants  half  an  hour  of  the  time 

M  oV  „vp«  but  -ihe  suddenly  changed  her  tactics, 

black  eyes,  oui  s[ii.  . "         j  i,„„.i{  « T  ,r)cnt  mT  girl- 

"  To  bepin  then,"  she  said,  seating  herself,     1  spent  mj  g 

To  beg  n  tne  ^^.^^  ^^^^^^^^  ^^^  j^, 

"°*  pLinion  shrugged  his  shoulders,  indicating  by  a  gesture  that 

'^  1: 1  "JhlX  is  a  saint."  she  said,  "  and,  perhaps,  a  prophe. 
,„,„;rpo.eton,c,oh...ich.ordsa,.dhesa,dhe.ouU,pr. 

for  me  and  save  ^  ^- ^^ ^^^  ^^^  „  ,„,er;  "  always 
betimes  the  nature  of  a  tigrees.' 


I 


OITtZE\  PREMION  MEETS  Ay  OLD  iCQVAItlTAltOB.     181 

"  And  a  tigreee  you  shall  nnd  me,  Premion,"  said  the  woman, 
suddenly  dealing  him  a  heavy  blow  with  n  walking  stick  which 
had  lain  unnoticed  beside  her  chair.  When  he  recovered  himself 
the  woman  had  gone,  and  he  heard  her  mocking  laugh  coming 
back  to  him  distinct  from  all  that  discordant  chorus  of  voices, 
every  moment  drawing  nearer. 

At  one  of  these  shouting,  swearing  bands,  who  were  hastening 
with  wild  cries  to  the  Place  do  la  C.uiiiotine,  Th^rdse  put  herself. 
The  fever  of  blood  was  in  the  maddened  faces  about  her,  the  fury 
of  destruction  was  in  those  staring  eyes  and  the  haggardncss  of 
sunken  cheeks.  They  cried  out  for  the  blood  of  the  aristocrats, 
they  sang  mad  songs,  they  waved  their  pikes  above  their  heads, 
holding  banners  covered  with  blasphemous  or  ribald  sentences, 
they  tossed  red  caps  into  the  air,  or  waved  their  arms  as  if  call- 
ing down  the  vengeance  of  the  gods. 

Of  a  sudden  they  were  brought  to  a  halt.  They  had  come 
to  the  turn  of  a  narrow  street,  where  the  houses  were  close  to- 
gether. Directly  in  their  path,  efleetually  obstructing  the  way, 
was  a  broken-down  cart.  Beside  it,  in  a  posture  of  uncontrollable 
grief,  was  a  young  lad.  His  head  rested  on  a  broken  rail,  and  he 
sobbed  aloud,  while  near  him  stood  an  elderly  man,  who  also 
seemed  as  if  he  had  come  down  from  the  country"  He  was  looking 
at  the  vouth  with  a  piteous  expression  of  grief  and  concern. 

The  most  ourprising  sight  of  all,  however,  and  one  not 
often  seen  in  those  days  in  the  streets  c.[  the  town,  was  a 
gentleman,  richly  clad,  with  breeches  and  waistcoat  of  r-by 
satin,  a  surcoat  of  finest  cloth,  silken  stociangs,  and  shoes  with 
silver  buckles. 

His  appearance  raised  a  shout  of  execration,  and  the  mob  were 
further  infuriated  by  having  its  progress  stopped.  Those  in  the 
front    uegan   to   hurl    curses   at   the   head    of   the   unfortunate 


m     CITIZEN  PHEMIOH  MEETS  A»  OLD  ACVUAlHTAyOE. 
„«gon«rs,  while  tho«  in  the  n-ar,  not  knowing  what  the  stoppage 
meant,  pressed  on  tumultuously. 

"  Kill  them  all,  and  break  up  the  cart  for  firewood,    ened 

several  voiecs.  „  t  *  i,™  f  .k» 

"  Down  with  the  aristocrat ! "  shouted  others.      I*t  him  lake 

a  drive  in  the  national  chariot." 

Tl>e  woman  Uuval,  hurling  horself  forward,  made  a  movement 
to  strike  at  the  gentleman,  screaming: 

"You!  you!"  ,,,      ,, 

Her  voice  failed  her  from  very  rage,  and,  meanwhile,  the 
gentleman,  who  stood  calm  and  composed  before  them,  raised 
rind  for  silence  and  began  to  speak.    Involuntarily,  all  wer 
silent,  so  comnanding  was  his  mien,  so  strong  the  force  of 
character  which  lit  up  his  fine  face. 

.'  Citizens  all,  and  you,  fair  ladies,  in  particular/'  he  began^ 
"There  are  no  ladies  here,  traitor,"  cried  Th^rise;      they 
are  having  their  heads  frizzed  for  the  guillotine." 

"  Lrt  me  speak  a  few  words  to  you,"  said  the  gentkman,  dis- 
regarding  the  interruption.  "  Here  are  two  worthy  ctoens,  like 
yo'urselv^  of  the  people,  friends  to  the  Repubhe,  who  have  come 
L  town  expressly  to  see  today's  sights,  and  have  brought  with 
them  such  produce  as  they  had,  hoping  to  make  -™--"  P  J^ 
Hearing  your  cries,  they  were  hurrying  toward  the  guillotine 
Sen  this'aceident  happened.  I  chanced  to  pass  by,  an  coijd 
not  help  feeling  compassion  for  this  unfortunate  >«"*.  He 
ean  not  raise  the  horse  himself;  his  shafts  are  broken;  his  father 
is  too  feeble.    Will  you  not  give  him  your  aid? 

«  Not  now,"  shrieked  some.    "  We  must  go  on.    We  may  be 

"^'-But  you  can  not  go  on  without  much  difficulty  unle«  you 
dear  the  way,"  urged  the  gentleman. 


CniZBlf  PRSMION  MEETS  AK  OLD  ACgVAlNTANCB.     138 

"  This  is  a  traitor,  a  royalist,  an  enemy  of  the  people,"  cried 
Thirtse,  who  liad  eeveral  times  rtrivcn  to  interrupt  the  gentle- 
man's discourse.  "  Ifs  a  royalist  plot  to  balk  the  nation  of  its 
revenge.    Break  the  cart  to  pieces." 

"  Yes;  break  it,  demolish  it,"  roared  the  mob. 

"  But  I  will  not  allow  you  to  commit  so  inhuman  an  act," 
declared  the  gentleman  coolly,  and  at  the  same  time  drawing  his 
sword  from  its  scabbard.    "  The  first  who  advances  dies." 

Pikes  were  brandished  about  him,  thrust  almost  into  his  face. 
But  the  cart  served  as  some  protection,  and  none  were  anxious 
to  court  donth. 

"  Who  are  you,"  cried  a  man,  "  that  dares  to  oppose  the  will 
of  the  sovereign  people  ? " 

"  I  am  one  who  is  not  to  be  trifled  with,"  said  the  gentleman, 
sternly. 

"Contpuez  the  aristocrat,  spit  upon  him!"  cried  Th«rise, 
in  a  very  frenzy  of  fear  lest  she  be  too  late,  and  advancing  fear- 
lessly she  leaped  over  the  cart. 

Instantly  the  gentleman  dropped  the  point  of  his  sword,  bow- 
ing  courteously: 

" Plnce  oux  dames!" 

ThirJse  could  not  restrain  a  glance  of  admiration.  Here 
j-as  that  man,  alone,  facing  a  desperate  mob,  and  trusting  to  his 
strong  right  arm  and  his  fertile  brain. 

"These  aristocrats  have  their  qualities,"  she  thought;  but 
instantly  she  turned  upon  the  crowd. 

"  Cowards,"  she  said ;  "  can  you  not  do  as  I  have  done,  and  to 
the  lanteme  with  this  aristocrat?" 

"  To  the  lanteme!    To  the  lanteme! "  echoed  the  crowds. 
"  N^ow,  reallv,"  said  the  stranger,  "you  are  tempting  fate,  my 
friends,  by  rushing  on  me.    My  sword  will  give  a  good  account 


,34     C/t;ZEX  PREUWJ!  UEETS  an  old  ACOVAIHTAHOB. 

of  it,elf  Wforo  it  i.  t.k.o,  and,  „,v  laith,  I  do  not  think  your  con- 
sciences  arc  .o  clean  that  jo,.  should  be  in  »uch  a  hurry  to  meet 
your  Maker." 

.'lie  i8  preaching  the  old  superstition,  pnertcraft.  Kill 
him!       Kill    him!"    roared    the    mob.       "He    is    a    priert    m 

disguise."  „    ,  ., 

"  You  are  wrong  there,  Citia-ns,  „s  you  .hall  find  ,f  you  come 
to  close  quarters,"  observed  the  gentleman,  "The  priest  doe. 
not  usually  practise  sword  play." 

"  We  shall  lose  the  sights  it  you  do  not  walk  over  the  body 
of  this  peasant  and  his  horse!"  cried  Th^rise;  "that  is,  if  he 
will  not  move  them." 

"  We  shall  move  them  for  him,  cart,  horse,  and  all,  cried  the 
gentleman.  "  It  is  the  quickest  way.  So  come,  now.  No  trifling. 
I  recommend  you  to  get  to  work." 

The  multitude  paused  for  very  astonishment,  and  some  of  the 
women  laughed  aloud,  believing  it  a  joke,  but  others  took  the 
matter  more  seriously. 

«'Tis  d'Artois  himself,"  they  cried.  "We  are  betrayed;  he 
has  the  foreign  troops  behind  him  or  he  would  not  dare  to  show 

himself."  , 

And  looks  of  abject  terror  began  to  show  itself  upon  some  of 

the  countenances. 

"  The  Comte  d'Artois !  The  Comte  d'Artois !  "  was  whispered 
from  mouth  to  mouth.  "  And  the  Austrians  are  at  his  back,  and 
the  dogs  of  brigands,  too.  Kill  the  tyrant,  the  traitor  of  the  false 
Bourbon  breed." 

"  My  friends,"  said  the  gentleman,  calmly,  raising  his  Toice 
so  as  to  be  hoard,  "  once  more  you  are  in  error.  You  arc  bestow- 
ing upon  me  all  manner  of  titles  which  are  far  above  my  deserts. 
At  one  moment  you  declared  me  to  he  a  minister  of  God,  at  the 


L'lTIZEt!  PREUIOX  MEETS  AN  OLD  ACODAINTAWE.     lU 

next  imtant  you  exalt  me  to  the  rcyal  dignity  and  to  brotherhood 
with  the  late  King  Louis  of  blessed  memory." 

He  deliberately  raised  the  hat  which  lie  had  but  lately  re- 
placed upon  his  head.  A  wave  of  fierci.  indignation  broke  over  the 
crowd.  A  herd  of  wild  beasts  let  loose  \  ,Te  kf,  terrible.  But 
the  gentleman's  voice  rose  calmly  as  before  in  the  pauses. 

"  I  may  as  well  tell  you  at  once  that  I  am  neither  royal  nor 
clerical,  a  gentleman,  with  long  descent  and  short  purse.  I  had 
forgotten  that  humanity  had  gone  out  of  fashion  wlion  the  rights 
of  man  were  declared.  I  supposed  that  fraternity  might  mean 
doing  a  good  turn  for  another  now  nnd  then,  and  that  liberty 
might  permit  those  who  wislied  to  serve  their  fellows  to  do  so 
unhindered." 

The  biting  irony  of  the  words  were  lost  on  some  of  tlie  crowd, 
but  Th^rte,  with  flaming  face,  cried : 

"  He  mocks  us  with  fine  phrases,  this  Judas  of  a  d'Artois. 
Let  us  make  an  end  of  him." 

She  had  stood  by  in  a  species  of  fascination,  as  if  anxious  to 
see  the  end  of  the  scene,  but,  above  all,  anxious  to  keep  a  close 
watch  upon  the  mysterious  stranger. 

"  I  might  call  you  by  another  name,"  she  hissed  into  his  ear, 
"  and  so  insure  your  death,  but,  for  the  moment,  I  pause.  Try 
me  not  too  far.  The  name  of  Jambe  d' Argent  would  be  as  a  red 
rag  to  a  bull." 

"  You  were  wondrous  fair  to  look  upon,  Th^rise  Duval,"  said 
the  stranger  suddenly,  ignoring  her  words,  "  when  I  saw  you  first 
in  the  Red  Inn  at  Saint  Lyphar.     You  had  come  hjme  from 
church  like  any  little  saint." 
The  girl  reddened,  then  paled. 

"And  those  eyes  have  not  lost  their  luster  yet,"  the  gentle- 
man wont  on.    "  Use  their  beauty  on  the  side  of  mercy." 


A  h.»  .mile  pUyea  .bout  T«rW.  ">j;*^":,^. 
drous  power.    "  If  1  were  you,  with  .uch  we.poii.       y 
I  would  le«d  this  mob  to  deeds  of  herowm. 
T  1  „ot  even  le.d  them  to  t.We  your  l.fe,"  -ud^he  ..  1^ 

...or  would  you  do  ..  "J/  -—J  T^l, 

r:!Lrii:rr:;rp:«..-uu«eut..u.n.. 

wonld  incite  to  d<*d8  of  blood." 

There  was  something  of  s.gnificance  m  h..  tone  wtacb  m. 
Thiriee  for  the  first  time  pause  irresolute. 

"  Love  is  a  mighty  power ! " 

"Hate  is  stronger."  ..Hate  bear,  bitter 

"Do  not  believe  it,"  s-id  ih.,  stranger. 

fruit." 

"  Call  it  revenge." 

"  Revenge  recoils  on  its  author." 

„.y  die  for  a  man,  but  sometimes  she  serves  hm.  best  by         g 
"\:;:s  ?«  ll  of  word,  there  in  the  midst  of  an  e,- 

jziwit^.^.--:^/::— 

from  their  stupor  as  to  busy  themselves 
-'nrcrriXtilS^r- Meanwhile. 

tinued  to  exercise  their  '— ^  .^^  ™^,'  ^^e  JamV 

d'Argent  so  invaluable  a  leader^  ^^^^  ^^  ^^^ 

Thirise  abashed  and  waning  in  her  tuea  reso 


CITIZSX  PREUIOX  MEETS  AN  OLD  ACQUAtl/TAXCK.     It; 

of  the  pike.,  amid  jest,  and  coane  laughter,  were  rtarting  the 
peaaanta  on  their  wav. 

"  If  a  woman,  through  her  agency,  were  to  give  a  man  happi- 
new,  would  it  not  be  more  than  life?  "  he  whispered  softly,  "  and 
in  after  years  would  it  not  come  back  to  him  as  a  holy  memory, 
so  that  he  should  bless  that  woman's  name?  " 
Tears  were  standing  in  the  woman's  eyes. 
"  If,  through  her,  on  the  other  hand,  came  the  death  of  his 
happiness,  worse,  far  worse,  than  physical  death,  should  he  not  re- 
member  her  with  loathing,  as  the  black  shadow  between  him  and 
the  sunshine  ? '' 

Thiriae  bent  her  head. 

"  You  have  conquered,"  she  Mid,  gliding  silently  forth  from 
the  crowd  she  had  been  leading  on,  while  the  gentleman,  looking 
after  her  with  moisture  in  his  eyes,  murmured: 

"  God  be  praised  for  the  softness  of  a  woman's  heart.  It  is 
to  human  life  what  the  spring  is  to  the  year.  And  »o,  there  is 
our  most  formidable  obstacle  conquered,  for  she  alone  guessed 
at-our  plans." 

ThiThe  slunk  away,  gloomily,  in  the  shndow  of  the  biiildings. 
"  ^*'«  Michel  is  surely  praying  for  me,"  she  murmured. 


i 


I'-' 


IM 


TBS    BSrOLVTIOSiKy    TVMBUL. 


CHAPTEB  X. 

IN  THE  BEVOLITIONAUT  TCMBRtL. 

Mkantime  from  the  Clock  Tower  dungeon  had  gone  forth 
.„o"rof  "ho.  dUn..!  cortege,  .hieh,  notwith-tanding  the. 
;:Le  fan,iU.rity,  w.e  h.i.d  .,,  th.  P-P"'-  "'J-     *; 
The  name,  had  been  called  to  the  rtroke.  of  the  Clock  Tower  IhU 
"a.  an  old  pne.  among  them,  one  „f  that  «le„t  army  « 
Irtvr.  which  the  French  Kevolutiun  gave  to  the  world.    Thur 
:S  ti  incomparahle  virtues,  devotion  to  duty.  «ir..en  .. 
and  h  role  death,,  contrast  with  the  unfaithfulnee.  of  a  few^ 
i  the  average  hlBtorian  or  the  clever  romancer  ,nee«  at  the 
Ze     priests    whom  he  repres..nts  to  he  as  unpopular  a,  a 

pllnx  of  heroes  who  went  to  death  or  exile,  "  unhonorcd  and 

"erl  were  nuns  who  had  languished  in  prison  for  many 
aayJ  nd  looked  forward  to  execution  as  to  a  ,oyf«l  relca.. 
Sit  de  Breteuil  was  there,  more  beautiful  than  ev.r  ,n  h.r 

I        TT    h>,.l  driven  thi»  esrt  so  many  times,  and  he  often 

:;:rth:^;:":^-.------"'"''*^ 


IS    THE    RFVOLITIOSAKY    TVUBKIL.  l.tS 

criti.  An  officer  of  the  National  Guard  rode  »ilent  and  taciturn 
at  the  head  of  a  «niall  force,  which  nerTcd  aa  c«'ort.  But,  indeed, 
a  guard  seemed  utterly  unnrecasary,  for  the  people  orowdi'd 
about  with  ahrieka  and  howli  of  delight,  commenting  aflir  thiir 
coarw.  fashion  upon  the  inmatcx  of  the  tumbril,  and  BintjIinK  out 
now  one,  now  another,  for  their  ribald  je»t»,  while  even  from 
the  windows  above,  which  were  crowded  with  spectators  all  along 
the  line,  taunts  and  jeers  were  hurled  at  the  unoffending  victims 
of  the  people's  tyranny. 

In  the  multitude  surrounding  the  tumbril,  women  predomi- 
nated—old women,  tottering  upon  slieks,  young  women,  laughing, 
iiowling,  or  joining  madly  in  the  singing  of  the  "  Carmagnole." 

.lust  at  the  head  of  the  white  horses,  which,  like  death's  pale 
horse  in  the  legend,  had  borne  many  a  one  to  the  grave,  were  par- 
ticularly noticeable  a  man  and  a  woman  who,  keeping  close  to- 
gether, sang  or  danced  in  unison.  The  woman  was  in  the  ordinary 
garb  of  the  women  of  her  class,  and  the  man,  whose  thin  dark  face 
was  lighted  by  an  expresssion  of  reckless  gaiety,  wore  his  liln-rty 
cap,  and  roared  out  the  "  Carmagnole  "  with  a  zest  which  drew  all 
eyes  upon  him. 

"  There's  a  good  Republican  for  you,"  cried  an  old  woman, 
taking  a  few  steps  herself  to  the  lively  tune  they  sang,  "  a  merry 
lad,  too,  with  his  laaa  on  his  arm." 

"Out  of  the  way,  mother!"  cried  the  dark  man,  "or  the 
horses  will  run  you  down.  They  don't  know  a  patriot  from  an 
aristocrat." 

There  was  a  roar  at  this  sally,  and  tht  oM  woman  stepped 
back,  the  dark  man  laying  a  soothing  hand  upon  the  bridle  rein 
of  the  excited  horse.  All  Nantes  was  in  the  streets  that  day. 
Premion,  after  his  encounter  with  Thfrfse  Duval,  bad  betaken 
himself  to  a  window,  whence,  pale  and  trembling,  he  peeped 


m    THE   REyOLVnOHiKr    TVMBRIh. 


140 

forth     He  dared  not  make  an  eflort  to  save  Je«me,  even  U  hi. 

of  oLervation,  and  Jeanne,  chancing  to  r..se  her  ^y^'^^^^ 
u-    f  ~     He  felt  that  he  would  never  forget  that  glance, 

r,r»r .-»»". .. » -.  '•■  ■ ""  — "  ■" 
— "*  r„  z."^'^  ••  — "• »-" "'" 

"  Softly,  80IIIJ  •     "■  .     .     .^^    ^jy  of 

"^^Ttil'^irSin.  hending  h.  head  reverently; 
..  ,;;\ri  't  fo'rg.  .»  ».  the  puce  of  execution.    G.ve  us 

,,„t  a**"!""""-"  ,„„  ^th  that  mystic  key,"  s^id 

to  do  the  like  for  me." 


IV   THE  RSVOLVTlOHAJtY    TUMBRIL. 


He  did  not  look  up  as  he  spoke,  tearing  to  betray  my 
BecretB  to  the  sharp  eyes  of  the  Revolutionists,  but  Oaston, 
glancing  involuntarily  toward  a  small  window  over  a  porch,  saw 
a  grave  face  look  forth,  while  a  hand  was  raised  an  instant.  They 
were  drawing  near  now  to  the  place  of  execution,  though  the 
way  was  purposely  made  as  long  as  possible,  that  the  sovereign 
people  might  have  every  opportunity  to  gaze  upon  their  fallen 
enemies. 

The  bell  of  St.  Giles  struck  the  three-quarters  after  three. 
It  wanted  but  a  quarter  of  an  hour  to  the  time  fixed  for  the 
carrying  out  of  the  sentence,  and  already  the  shadow  of  the 
guillotine  loomed  large  in  that  square  which  had  come  to  he 
known  by  its  sanguinary  name.  The  tumbril  had  to  paae  through 
an  open  space  where  there  were  no  buildings  of  any  sort,  and  where 
the  crowd  was  less  dense.  Suddenly  there  was  a  tumult.  No 
one  knew  precisely  how  or  why.  A  tall  man  raised  his  voice, 
proclaiming  something  which,  for  the  moment,  caught  the  at- 
tention of  the  crowd. 

Suddenly  the  driver  of  the  vehicle  felt  himself  pushed  from 
his  place.  The  reins  were  instantly  seized  by  the  young  man  of 
the  "  Carmagnole,"  who  had  abruptly  abandoned  his  companions. 
He  sprang  upon  the  cart,  declaring  that  he  would  drive,  te  the 
driver  had  fallen  oflf — that  the  guillotine  must  not  be  cheated, 
and  that  he  would  drive  straight  over  all  who  came  in  his  way. 
It  seemed  as  if  a  very  frrnzy  of  Republican  zeal  had  seized  upon 
him,  and  the  crowd  cheered  nnd  applauded  him  to  the  echo, 
while  he  mutely  motioned  Ypcult  and  Jeanne  to  crouch  down 
upon  the  floor  of  the  tumbril,  the  nuns  imitating  their  example, 
nnd  the  Republican,  in  snme  bewilderment,  doing  the  like,  so 
that  only  Gaston  and  the  old  priest  remained  erect. 

The  dark  man  now,  chanting  once  more  the  "  rarmagnnl.\" 


«;   ! 

i    ' 


j„  ,W    THB    RBVOLVTIOy^r    TUtlBHIL. 

tor   him,   crediting   >»«   ^'^^"f '   '^^     Suddenly,  Predion, 

being  attracted  by  the  tall  man  m  the  r^   »  J 

who  had  arrived  upon  *«-„«,  s«  along  ^^^^ 

,.Mon.  reali.^  tHTrTr^r  art!:^!.'  horae.,  hut 

r;^:r;;:s:Tma^o,^ay^-2;:; 

of  a  rescue.  ,    ,  ^  attempted 

inrtantly  there  was  a  A""'*  *»"  '  ""^  ^^J^^^and  to  a 

to  clo«  ahout  ^^^:^%'^Jl\Z''ZrLLr  at  hand, 

T:";\tl"rt^rt,  «hieh  tore  madly  on. 

while  those  who  had  Bought  to  detain  mm  r  ^ 

i„  a  curiously  half-hearted  encounter  w^to  the  m 
ranged  themselves  under  that  -^y^^^"^' '^^^^,^ 

"Who  is  he?"  began  to  be  whispered  breathlessly. 

"The  Due  d'Enghien!"  cried  one. 

"The  Comted'Artois!"  said  another. 


IN    THE   BBV0LVT10VA.RY    TVMBRIL.  143 

kind  of  awe  even  in  hie  friends,  paralyzed  the  energies  of  the 
mob. 

"  It's  no  use  fighting  against  him,"  was  the  cry.  "  He  is  a 
spirit,  an  ame  damnee  sent  to  help  these  aristocrats." 

"There  you  are  tallting  superstition,"  objected  a  voice. 
"  There  are  no  spirits,  no  lost  souls.  No  life  beyond  this,"  and 
the  first  speaker  was  terrified,  and  cowered  away,  for  it  was 
treason  then  to  express  a  belief  in  a  future  existence. 

"You  are  right,"  said  another  speaker.  "The  friends  of 
reason  hold  no  such  superstition.  This  man  is  just  like  all  the 
brigands  of  La  Vendfe.  He  fights  like  a  wildcat,  talks  like  a 
lawyer,  and  moves  about  from  place  to  place  as  if  he  had  wings." 

"  Some  day  his  wings  will  be  clipped,"  prophesied  a  croaking 
voice,  while  above  all  the  tumult  rose  the  despairing  shouts  of 
Premion. 

"  Beat  them  down !  Pursue  that  cart,  or  it  will  be  too  late. 
The  aristocrats  will  escape.    I  tell  you,  they  will  escape  I " 

But  none  paid  any  heed  to  him.  All  were  too  much  engrossed 
with  the  wonderful  personality  of  the  great  leader,  about  whom 
the  wildest  legends  were  in  circulation.  There  was  no  one  on 
either  side  of  the  Loire  who  had  not  heard  of  him.  His  fame 
was  in  every  hamlet.  The  children  whispered  his  name  with 
terror.  And  here  he  was  among  them,  with  how  large  a  follow- 
ing they  did  not  know.  The  fact  itself  bewildered  and  terrified 
them.  He,  on  his  part,  seemed  to  be  everywhere;  the  strength 
of  his  arm  seemed  incredible,  and  his  voice  rang  out  like  a  trumpet 
call  issuing  orders,  till  at  last  the  cart  had  disappearefi  altogether 
from  view.  Then  the  tall  man  quietly  withdrew  his  little  force, 
all  of  whom  seemed  to  glide  away  and  vanish  in  the  distance. 

Premion,  raging  like  a  madman,  rushed  up  to  the  leader  of 
the  National  Guard,  which  had  been  serving  as  escort,  and,  partlv 


^^^  w  tbe  revolotioha-rt  tvubbiv. 

by  the  very  force  of  the  e«..d  and  partly  by  contrivance  ofJ^be 

rr;:rierc„th..o..^..^«^;^» 

!::r::«Xa:Xl'..the.»ofhUh»aanerror 

.trong  drink,  made  his  way  to  the  ,e«,*.nn^n  o  ar^  .  ^^^ 
suitable  force  should  be  sent  .n  P»-'^  ^"^^^^.^  ^^^rbial 
^ere  disposed  to  take  his  story  w.th  more  than         P 

;r„':r  i--.----- "-"»"""  "■■'■ 

"''^'  M.!"  cried  the  incredulous  official.     "They 

"It  is  impossible!      cnea  tne  _j 

.....e  well  guarded,  and  the  same  ""-' "'^  J"';"    J^^  honest 
chariot  ever  since  the  Kepub.ic  was  V'^^^-^Jl^ZL,. 

rdteV'tarocrats  to  .«.  rather  than  let  them 

'"'"Fi"  Madmen!"  cried  Premion.  "The  popnla«  was 
Moo'r;  Jart  of  a  knave,  and  afterward  over^wered,  «.d 
^nlriver^in  whom  you  -  ^^ -—o^,  „.«.  .t 
t.;:tr.^:::"-t2,Ci«.en,tore.r.n.ou, 


IN    THE    tEVOLVTIOKAKY    TUMBRIL. 


11 


I 


if  you  do  not  go  peaceably  home  and  to  bed.  You  say  that  Louis 
1/anterne  drives  no  more.    Bah !  " 

"  I  maintain  it,  and  I  am  as  sane  as  the  best  of  yon  I "  de- 
clared Premion,  trying  to  speali  calmly. 

"  Who,  then,  holds  the  reins  and  drives  the  horses  of  the  He- 
public?" 

"  Who?  The  most  dangerous  man,  save  one,  in  all  this  dis- 
trict." 

"  And  who  may  that  one  be?"  asked  the  official  with  an  air 
of  superior  wisdom,  while  those  about  him  grinned  and  tittered. 

"  Richard  Duplessis !  " 

At  this  answer  there  wao  a  roar  of  laughter  from  all  the 
officials. 

"  But  we  signed  the  permit  for  his  burial  three  days  ago." 

"  The  dead  has  risen." 

"  Now  we  Itnow  that  you  are  raving.  Citizen,"  they  cried. 

"  Do  you  know  who  I  am  ?  "  asked  Premion,  fiercely. 

"  I  do  not,  but  I  suspect,"  replied  the  chief  official,  with  a 
humorous  twinkle  of  the  eye.  "  I  believe  you  are  the  last  arrival 
from  the  madhouse." 

"  I  am  Morin-Premion !  "  cried  the  infuriated  lawyer. 

There  was  another  roar  of  laughter  at  this. 

"  We  are  certain  of  your  lunacy  now,"  said  the  chief.  "  You 
come  to  us  with  a  story  of  this  kind,  and  you  expect  us  to  believe 
that  you  are  the  most  celebrated  of  Carrier's  associates,  a  man 
whose  sagacity  has  become  a  byword  ?  " 

"  I  repeat  that  I  am  Morin-Premion ! " 

The  other  shook  his  head. 

"  A  shallow  demagogue  he  may  be,"  he  said,  "  but  not  such 
a  fool  as  yon." 

^remion  flushed  crimson. 


14«  ly   THE   RBVOLVTlOy^BY    TVHBRlh. 

«You  Shall  pay  for  yo.r  msolence,"  he  said,  "-f^l^ 
jouraelf  arrested  for  compUcity.  since  you  have  made  no  e«ort 
whatever  to  defeat  this  plot." 

"Was  Richard  Duplessis,  dead  or  alive,  supposed  to  have 

'"""ot  quite,"  returned  Predion;  "its  details  were  carefully 
prearranged  by  one  J-WArgent"  ^^  ^^^  ^^^ 

Thp  officials  began  to  look  grave.     i.m  v 
was  so  icat  thatTt  dominated,  to  a  certain  extent,  even  the 
Bevolutionary  tribunals  themselves.  ..gj, 

"Jambe  d'Argent!"  muttered  one  to  the  <iC.^.     ^^ 
capable  of  anything,  and  what  he  desires  he  a«ompl,shes.    Per 

.aps  it  would  be  as  well  to  ^Z^.^^i  an  hour  by 
"Inquire,  you  asses'  heads,  after  jou  have  losv 

^""i:SX  official  lost  something  els^his  temper  and  ..d 
the  time  thev   collected   forces   and   armed   on  the   scene 

tirious  stranger,  whom  they  now  almost  feared  to  name-the 
redoubted  Jambe  d'Argent. 

Meantime  liiehard  had  contrived  to  get  "-  -f ;;"  "^*^ 
rescued  safe  outside  of  Nantes.    Needless  to  say  that  the  tumb 
w      presentlv  discarded  for  a  less  noticeable  veh,clc,    The  wh^ 
Ho"  I  were  sent  galloping  back  with  the  empty  tumbr.l  to  carry 


in   TBE   taiyOLVTWllARY    TVMBRIL. 


147 


terror  to  the  citiienB  of  Nantes,  muiy  of  whom  fled  before  thran 
panic-stricken. 

The  prisoners  were  divided  into  twos  and  threes,  and  were 
presently  safely  sheltered  in  one  of  those  resorts  almost  in- 
accessible to  the  enemy,  amidst  the  dense  brushwood  of  the  Socage. 
These  resorts  were  protected  by  watchmen,  who  placed  light, 
portable  ladders  against  the  tallest  trees,  being  thus  enabled  to 
foresee  the  approach  of  any  hostile  force.  Its  approach  was 
made  known  to  the  concealed  by  a  few  notes  upon  the  shepherd's 
horn.  Or  the  famous  windmills  on  the  Hill  of  Larks,  ovei^ 
looking  the  Bocage,  was  made  to  do  sentry  duty  by  certain  pre- 
arranged settlement  of  its  wings. 

Here,  then,  on  the  morning  following  that  day  which  had 
dawned  so  tragically,  the  good  old  priest,  who  had  accompanied 
the  other  prisoners  in  the  memorable  drive  through  the  streets 
of  Nantes,  said  Mass  in  the  shadow  of  the  woods.  The  day  was 
just  breaking,  a  delicate,  limpid  blue  following  timidly  on  the 
roseate  masses.  The  snow,  which  had  fallen  here  and  there, 
gleamed  in  the  trembling  of  the  new  light,  the  trees,  touched 
with  hoar-frost  seemed  as  the  marble  pillars  in  some  vast 
cathedral,  and  the  worshipers  were  animated  by  a  fervor  in- 
describable. Richard  Duplessis  presently  took  leave  of  those  whom 
he  had  rescued,  and  whom  he  had  yet  to  see  in  a  place  of  even 
greater  security,  whence  they  might  embark  for  some  happier  and 
less  troubled  land.  Meantime  he  had  n  mission  to  perform  at 
the  Red  Inn  of  Saint  Lyphar.  He  was  to  convey  thither  news 
of  the  rescue.  He  was,  of  course,  to  proceed  there  with  the 
most  absolute  secrecy  to  entrust  Erminie  with  news  for  the 
Chateau  dp  In  Roche  Andri,  and  thence  to  make  his  way  back 
again  to  the  little  colony  of  La  Bocage. 


TBE   CiVERN   BY    THE    BBA. 


CHAPTEH  XI. 

THE  OATEBN   BY  THE  SEA. 

One  of  the  chief  strongholds  of  Jambe  d'Argent,  though  he 
had  many,  was  within  a  rock,  cavern  hard  by  the  sands  of 
Olonne  Thence  he  despatched  many  a  cargo  of  the  sand  acres, 
seas,  and  thence  he  not  infrequently  directed  his  wonderful  plan 
of  campaign  by  which  the  men  of  each  village,  unless  specially 
called  to  action,  remained  there  under  a  local  leader,  while  all 
were  subordinate  to  one  head.  Despatches  were  forwarded  by 
regular  svstem;  supplies  of  provisions  coUected  in  various  parts 
of  the  forest;  "the  herdsmen  were  sentinels,  the  beggars  spies, 
and  the  women  messengers." 

It  was  by  means  of  this  plan  of  action  that  he  had  won  for 
himself  that  wonderful  reputation  which  exalted  him  almost  to 
the  rank  of  a  demi-god,  and  it  was  through  these  various  resort, 
of  his,  and  noticeably  by  that  one  on  the  sands  of  Olonne,  that 
he  was  enabled  to  shelter  fugitive  priests,  religious,  and  nobles; 
for  there  they  might  abide  in  safety,  no  matter  how  fiercely 
blew  the  storms  witbout-mater,!  storms,  no  less  than  figurative 
tempests,  for  the  place  was  a  gloomy  and  forbidding  one. 
Nature  had  done  her  best  to  assist  the  resourceful  leader  in  s^ 
curing  such  a  retreat  as  only  the  most  astute  could  detect  and 
the  boldest  seek  to  enter. 

Thither  he  had  transported  such  of  the  rescued  prisoners  as 
desired  to  make  the  journey,  while  the  old  priest  had  preferred 
.fining  where  he  could  minister  to  the  scattered  flocks  of  La 


TBt   CAVBRK  BY    TUB    BSA.  ,^ 

Vendee,  .nd  the  nuns  had,  at  their  r..,ue„,  been  «,„t  to  a  hou« 
of  .  e.r  order  on  the  confine.  „r  P„i.,„,  „,,ere  .hey  could  ho" 

Y«^ult,  „th  a  vcncrahlc  h.dy  of  Anger,  who  had  l^on  ,h,.  ,harer 

»nd  Jambe  d  Argent,   were   snugly   domesticated   in   a   cavern 

And  there  they  were  momentarily  expecting  the  arrival  o,  the 

fir  ""f  "*""■'  "^  '"  ««'"^  ^"O'^.  -tb  Oaston,  who  had 
gone  to  Bec.k  them.  For  evil  times  had  come  .0  Saint  Lyphar 
an  a  warrant  had  been  issued  for  the  arrest  of  the  feuda  lord 
of  that  village  and  his  wife.  This  having  coming  to  the  knowl- 
J^ge  of  Jamhe  d'Argcnt,  he  would  have  sen.  a  tr'u sty  mess'^r 
to  w„n  them  of  their  danger  and  offer  them  an  asylum.  B^t 
Oaston  would  not  be  content  unless  he  could  go  himself 

^nd  so  it  had  fallen  out  that  he  had  mrt  at  the  Red  Inn 
of  Sam  Lyphar,  just  as  the  thick  darkness  of  the  mid,.le  night 
was  «.  thng  down  on  the  village,  a  merchant  of  small  wares  ^d 

tmction  under  the  mask  of  coarse  clothes 

sand'^'  fTT  ""'  '"'™^-  ^"""^  "«"«  K'"""-!  "^r  the 
-nds,  wh,ch  gleamed  yellow  through  a  mist.  At  the  entrance 
to  the  cavern  the  water  restlessly  churned  among  the  rocks-  a 
n.oan,ng  wind  swept  drearily  over  the  ocean.  It  wore  late,  a'nd 
there  was  no  sign  yet  of  the  boat,  which  should  bv  that  time  hav» 
rounded  the  point  of  rocky  land,  nor  yet  of  ,he  ,,ig„al  rocket 
which  was  to  proclaim  its  coming.  Richard  crept  out  as  far  as 
possible  to  a  point  of  rock  where  he  could  command  the  open 
stretch  of  water  and  catch  the  very  first  sight  of  the  "Marie 
Antomette,"  the  trim  little  vessel  which  went  back  and  forth 
upon  Jambe  d'Argent's  errands. 


lU 


TKM   OAVtRS  BY   TBM   Ml. 


Hichtrf,  l-ning  foTwrd,  e.g.rly  .trained  eye  ttd  e.r  t. 
the  uttem«t.  Only  the  «.und  of  the  w.ter..  the  rcr  of  the 
infinite  deep,  the  «reech  of  the  ^a-bird.  brolce  the  «lence^  Pr«- 
ently,  Richard  heard  a  voice  behind  him.    It  wa.  that  of  Jambe 

'^'^''ir*grow.  dark!"  he  «id,  and  it  wa.  evident  that  he,  too, 
.hared  tho«  apprehension,  which  had  driven  Richard  forth  from 
the  comfort  of  the  cave,  where  he  loved  to  watch  Jeanne  going 
about  her  hou«hold  ta.k.  after  her  bri.k,  silent  '»>>.on. 

"They    might    have    been  pursued,"    Richard  eonjectured, 
"and  dar«l  not  venture  thither,  lert  they  dieclo«  thU  hiding- 

^"' Mt  may  be  as  you  say,"  Jambe  d'Argent  assented.  "  Maltra 
Julien,  who  command,  the  ve»el,  is  a  crafty  old  fox,  and  vnll 
cause  Marie  to  show  her  heeU  should  danger  be  m  the  wmd. 

After  that  there  was  silence  between  the  two  men  the 
.trained,  intense  silence  of  suspense,  in  the  midst  of  wh.ch  they 
beheld,  a.  some  .trange  portent,  the  .udden  flashing  up  into  the 
heavens  of  a  red  streamer. 

«  Thank  God ! "  said  Jambe  d'Argent,  fervently. 
"Amen!"  replied  Richard,  "for  this  and  all  His  mercie.. 
After  that  there  was  dead  silence  for  a  few  moments. 
"He  will  not  venture  in  just  yet,"  .aid  the  great  leader, 
calmlv,  "until  he  makes  sure  that  his  signal  could  not  have  been 
observed  by  others  than  ourselves." 

A.  the  men  waited  and  listened,  there  came  a  noise  like  the 
scream  of  the  sea-gull.  To™i« 

"Mattre    Julien    is    signaUng    us    again!"    cried    Jambe 
d'Argent.    "  We  must  display  ■    'lights." 

A^d  this  having  been  done,  Mattre  Julien,  with  the  pract,«.d 
,m  of  a  veteran  mariner,  steered  carefully  between  the  jagged 


TBt    CAVtRS  BT    THE   BBA. 


191 


mauM  of  tton«,  and  waa  hailed  by  t  joyful  though  subdued  ahout 
from  the  watchers. 

Madame  was  the  first  to  alight  from  the  craft,  leaning  upon 
the  arm  of  her  beloved  Gaston,  and  smiling  as  brightly  as  though 
she  were  arriving  at  the  Chiteau  do  la  Roche  Andr«  instead  of 
s  rocky  cave  by  the  sea,  whence  a  vessel  would  presently  convey 
lier  and  those  she  loved  away  from  their  beloved  France.  Woman- 
like, the  cared  less  about  the  abstract  features  of  the  whole 
terrible  situation  in  France  than  that  her  first-bom  harl  b,,n 
saved  to  her,  and  that  the  Marquis  and  herself  had  escaped  the 
ignominy  of  a  dungeon,  probably  the  martyrdom  of  the  guillotine. 
With  the  Marquis  it  was  otherwise.  He  saw  not  only  the  down- 
faU  of  his  authority  and  feudal  importance,  but  the  downfall  of 
his  order.  He  beheld  a  cataclysm,  where  others  only  saw  a  floor], 
which  had  overflowed  its  banks,  but  would  return  thither  again. 
He  looked  aged  and  sorrowful,  though  he  strove  to  maintain  his 
habitual  dignified  serenity. 

Jambc  d'Argent  met  hie  guests  with  the  grace  of  a  courtier. 

"  Madame,"  he  said,  "  it  is  a  strange  and  squalid  abode  to 

which  I  have  the  honor  of  welcoming  you,  but  for  the  time  bein<; 

it  is  your  own.    And  you.  Monsieur  de  la  Roche  Andr6,  consider 

that  you  have  reached  home." 

"  I  thank  you,  sir,"  said  the  Marquis,  "  but  my  debt  to  you 
is  too  great  and  far-reaching  for  words  to  touch  '.I." 

"  It  is  mine  to  be  grateful  for  the  privilege  of  serving  those 
1  esteem,"  replied  Jambe  d'Argent,  and,  as  if  to  change  the 
subject,  he  led  his  guests  through  winding  and  rocky  passages 
to  a  vaulted  chamber,  illumined  by  the  light  of  a  huge  fire.  Two 
girls  sprang  forward  with  cries  of  joy  to  greet  the  new  arrivals. 
Vsenlt,  looking  more  charming  than  ever  in  her  simple  Breton 
costume,  and  Jeanne,  with  her  round  cheeks,  browned  by  ex- 


,gf  rai   CAVfJIW   ■T    TBI    Ml. 

pcure,  ana  her  bine  eye.,  rtood  looking  .t  them  .miUng  through 
herte»rf.    Oaiton  iprang  at  once  to  Yteult't  lide. 

"  What  I  have  suffered  in  your  abaence  1 "  the  aid.  "  I  feared, 
I  feared  you  might  be  recaptured." 

"And  I  have  .uflered  from  your  abaencel"  cried  Oarton. 
"  The  neparation  was  cruel  after  w  late  a  reunion." 

By  the  light  of  the  pinevrood  fire  which  glowed  upon  the 
hearth,  he  gaied  tenderly  into  the  young  girl'i  face. 

"How  beautiful  you  are,  my  Yscult!"  he  cried,  enthuaia.- 
tically— "  in  thi«  peaaant  disguise,  more  enchanting  than  ever." 

Yseult,  blushing,  answered  with  her  pretty  smile  and  dainty 

courtesy.  ,    „     ,        a 

"  You  are  learning  to  he  a  flatterer,  Monaienr  le  Comte,  and 

that  I  will  never  abide.    So  I  must  go  and  help  Jeanne  with  our 

Hupper."  .  . 

«  Not  yet.  ah,  not  yet,"  he  pleaded,  stretching  out  a  detaining 

hand. 

"  But  Jeanne  is  doing  all  the  work." 

«  Our  good  Jeanne  will  not  grudge  me  a  quarter  of  an  hour's 

pleasure." 

"  It  is  so  delightful,  too,  to  really  work  and  cook  for  ourselves 

and  serve  the  table." 

"  But  it  is  far  more  delightful  to  me  to  hear  you  talk  and 
sit  beside  you  in  the  firelight,  and  realize  that  we  have  actually 
escaped  from  prison  and  death,  and  still  have  each  other." 

Yseult's  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"  Oh,  Gaston !  "  she  said,  "  when  wc  think  of  it !  " 

He  assumed  a  lighter  tone,  to  divert  her  mind  from  that  fear- 


ful topic 
"So 


that  is  why  you  should  be  kind,  and  stay  with  me  now, 


and  give  me 


this  litt'.e  half  hour  till  the  supper  is  ready 


TNt   OAVtHN   »r    THS   BMA.  )« 

He  ipoke  with  a  boyish,  winning  gr«cc,  which  wu  irnaintiblv 
nttnctive.  ' 

"  Yon  said  a  quarttr  of  an  hour  liefore,"  laid  YMult,  mii- 
chievon.ly :  "  it  i.  the  old  rtory,  the  more  one  ha.,  the  more  on* 
wants." 

"  That  is  exactly  the  ca«?  when  it  is  a  question  of  your  com- 
pany." 

"I  shall  really  have  to  go  away,"  said  Yseult;  "you  are 
such  a  fine  gentleman  and  a  courtier  with  all  those  pritty  phrase.." 

And  »he  made  a  movement  to  rise  from  the  rude  wttle  by 
the  fire  to  which  Gaston  had  led  her.  But  he  would  not  let  her 
go,  and  as  he  had  a  very  imperious  and  masterful  way  with  him 
when  he  liked,  Ysenlt,  yielding  gracefully,  «t  still,  smiling  at 
him  and  looking  unspeakably  pretty  in  the  firelight. 

"  I  fear  yon  are  going  to  be  quite  a  tyrant,  Oa.ton,"  she 
laughed. 

"  A  tyrant  and  a  slave,  then,  at  once,"  said  this  ardent  lover. 
"  And  as  to  pretty  phrases,  there  are  none  ever  invented  that 
would  not  apply  to  you." 

Jambe  d'Argent  had  been  watching  the  pair  all  the  while, 
a  smile  parting  his  mobile  lips,  and  a  shade  of  sadness  darkening 
his  steel-blue  eyes,  as  he  said  to  Madame : 

"If  love  laughs  at  locks  and  bars,  it  likewise  laugh,  at  peril, 
and  discomfort.  Ix»k  yonder,  Madame,  at  the  most  charming 
picture  of  youth  and  happiness  which  it  has  been  my  good  for- 
tune  to  we  for  many  days.  The  glow  on  the  cheeks,  the  light  in 
the  eye.,  the  happy  smile!  Oh,  that  is,  indeed,  a  direct  legacy 
from  paradise." 

Madame  looked  in  the  direction  indicated.  The  firelight 
was  shining  fuU  on  the  gallant  figure  of  the  young  Count,  straight 
«nd  erect  a.  a  lance,  hit  eager,  handsome  face  bent  toward  his 


jj^  TM   OAVBRV  BY    TBS    8BA. 

beautiM  betrothed,  who  «emed,  in  the  recovered  glow  of  free- 
?r  and  happine.,  radiant  with  a  subtle  lovelinees  wh.ch  lay  no^ 
Tier  in  fom.  or  figure.  Her  brown  eyes,  delicately  arch«i 
by  d^er  eyebrows,  her  reddish-brown  hair,  and  her  transparen^ 
Jive  skin  made  up  a  picture  from  "hich  the  masters  of  art 
might  have  drawn  inspiration.    The  Marquise,  too,  smiled  and 

"'^Qu-a  fait  beau  d'«re  jeune,"  she  said.    "How  beautiful 
it  ia  to  be  young!"  ,      ., 

-And  when  young,  lovely,  as  Madame  -"  -»"'  ^  ^ 
Jambe  d'Argent.  with  his  courtier-like  bow.  "At  the  b.ai  of 
the  Embassy,  thirty  years  ago,  1  remember  a  picture.  Mademo 
«.lle  de  Saint  Germain  has  just  entered  the  room  with  her 
mother.  She  was  clad  simply  in  white,  with  a  nosegay  of  violets 
in  her  hand." 

Madame  started.  , 

"  There  were  a  circle  of  admirera  about  her,  and  I,  approach- 
ing with  difficult,,  received  a  smile,  a  gluice  of  the  eyes,  and 
flnaUy  the  honor  of  a  dance." 

"You  were  there,  and  yon  danced  with  me?"  inquired 
Madame,  in  astonishment.  j,..„„t 

"  I  was  there,  and  1  had  that  pleasure,"  said  Jambe  d  Argent 
..  You  could  not  possibly  ranember  me  any  more  than  you  would 
^member  one  of  the  wax  tapers  which  gleamed  around,  but 
TMadame,  I  was  looking  at  a  star.  That  picture,  that  smile^ 
tiat  glance  I  have  never  forgotten.    I  am  old  now,  «id  may  dare 

to  speak  of  these  things."  

"And  an  old  woman,  long  unused  to  flattering  words,  may 
hear"  said  Madame,  with  her  hri,ht  .mile;  "but  I  pray  you 
to  tell  me  the  name  of  one  ..ociated  tha.  with  m,  far  away 
youth." 


TM   CAVBRlf  Br   TMB   USA.  ib6 

Jambe  d'Argent  bent  and  whispered  a.  name.    Madame  started. 

"That  name  must  never  be  mentioned  aloud  in  France," 
the  strange  man  said.    "  It  is  dead,  dead  as  our  order." 

"  But  Duke—" 

"  The  Duke  ie  dead,  too,  Madame.  Jambe  d'Argent  lives." 
And  so  saying,  he  bowed  and  left  the  Marquise  still  standing, 
with  an  amazed,  bewildered  look  upon  her  face.  Jambe  d'Argent 
now  advanced  to  Bichard,  casting  upon  him  an  amused,  in- 
quiring look.  He  had  never  exchanged  an  audible  word  with 
Jeanne,  although  he  had  continued  to  catch  her  eye,  and  ever  and 
anon,  as  she  came  and  went  about  her  household  duties,  he 
murmured  a  tender  word  heard  by  her  alone,  a  word  which 
sent  her  with  brightened  eyes  and  the  glow  of  a  happy  light  in 
them  about  her  work. 

^   "Uve-making  suits  you    but   ill,    Duplessis,"  said  Jambe 
d'Argent.    "  The  clash  of  arms,  after  aU,  agrees  with  you  better." 
"Well,  at  any  rate,  my  lord,"  said  Richard,  "love  makes  a 
very  ass  of  me.    It  steals  my  wits  and  ties  my  tongue." 

"That  organ  of  yours  is  never  very  fluent,"  said  the  leader. 
"Ton  are  a  man  of  action  rather  than  of  words.  But  after  all 
that  you  and  she,  that  all  of  us,  have  passed  through  to- 
gether, I  thought  you  would  have  had  much  to  say  to  the  pretty 
one  yonder." 

"  Jeanne  i.  satisfied,"  said  Bichard,  smiling,  so  that  the  smile 
lit  up  his  dark  face  as  sunshine  upon  a  rock. 

"She  looks  so,"  agreed  Jambe  d'Argent.  "Yet  she  is  but 
a  woman.  Give  your  tongue  a  little  more  play.  Lose  your  shy- 
ness, which  make,  you  heaiUte  to  make  love  before  an  audience. 
PoUow  the  example  of  your  Count  He  has  done  famously,  an.1 
I  could  swear  has  told  hi.  heautiful  betroth^,  with  eye.  and 
tongue,  a  down  time,  that  she  is  the  snn  to  his  earth." 


1 1 


TSe    CAVEBy   BY    THE    SEA. 


'  laughed  Richard, 


IM 

"  I  will  try  to  meet  your  wishcB,  my  lord,' 
"  when  Jeanne  is  not  so  busy."  _^ 

"Not  my  wishes,  but  hers  and  yours,  you  sly  dog  I  sairt 
Jambe  d'Argent.  "  Well,  if  your  tongue  is  silent,  your  eyes  are 
eloquent  enough,  and  you  have  scaree  taken  them  oif  her." 

It  was  now  necessary  for  Jambe  d'Argent  to  offer  his  arm  to 
Madame  and  lead  her  to  the  supper  table,  which  he  did  with  as 
much  ceremony  as  though  the  cavern  had  been  an  ancestral  palace 
and  as  though  some  rude  deal  boards,  roughly  put  together,  had 
been    the    banqueting    board.      The  Marquis    made    l^.s    bow 
to  the  old  lady  from  Poitou,  Gaston  following  with  Yseult,  while 
Richard  brought  up  the  rear  with  Jeanne.    Jeanne  had  proposed 
to  wait  upon  the  guests,  but  to  this  none  of  the  company  would 
consent.    Distinctions  of  rank  were  for  the  time  forgotten,  and 
aU  agree:  to  help  themselves  to  the  good  things  put  before  them. 
The  room  was  lighted  by  tallow  dips  in  tin  sconces  hung  about 
the   wall,   and   a   pine   torch   dipped   in    oil   and  placed   upon 
the  hearth  further  illumed  the  darkness.     The  table-cloth  and 
dishea  were  of  the  coarsest,  but  never  merrier  company  sat  down 
to  banquet.    Their  appetites  were  sharpened  by  the  sea  air;  some 
had  the  added  zest  of  a  journey  by  boat. 

Their  recent  danger  lent  a  charm  to  present  security,  their 
parting*  to  present  companionship,  while  the  happenings  of  the 
last  weeks  formed  an  inexhaustible  topic  of  conversation.  Added 
to  this  the  glow  that  radiated  from  the  faces  of  four  happy 
lovers,  and  there  was  certainly  material  for  a  very  enjoyable 
dinner  party.  So  that  if  the  Marquis  do  la  Roche  AndrS  thought 
with  misgivings  of  the  probable  fate  of  his  castle,  if  Madame 
aiehed  to  think  that  she  might  reign  there  a.  mistre^'  and 
chatelaine  no  more,  if  both  gave  a  thought  to  that  other  absent 
„n   who  was  known,  however,  to  be  so  far  safe  with  Charette 


THE    CAVEBI,  BY    THE    BEA. 

.dve't:::;.;:  tT  ''"''■  "^'  '^■"  °"  ">«  -*  -'  - 
he  e.pe.:j  ir;r;„"  ""-^"^^""-^^^^  -^ 

•-at  Moved.     Richard  wasLrof  a  ^'°'  """""'  '"  ""^  ""^ 

With  Madame's  permission,"  he  said    "rt.„  • 
I  would  like  to  give."  '      """*  ''  '""'  '"'"t 

Madame  bent  her  head  in  assent. 
"Let  us  drink,  then,  to  Th^rJse  Duval  " 

I'e  did  not  understand.       '  '        """"""^ "'  ""* 

"To  Th^rese  Duval,  then !  "  cried  Jaral«  d'Arp,nt, 

To  Thirise  Duval  !"cri«l  the  others 
'V,ve  Th^rJse  Duval!"  added  Oaston 

terse  and  dramatic  stvle,  it  was  a  1.  T        ^'■«*"" ' 

J«n»»  d'Argent  told  them,  at  the  company's  request,  m.„, 


rae  cavbrii  ay  thb  ma. 

•    M»f.  of  hU  life.    Some  were  80  rtruige  Mid  »  rtriking  th.t 
ranean  retreat.  ^  ^^^j_  j„  ^^^  ^rii„ 

pnnee  rtepped  covamandingly  to  him. 

my  forehead,  and  spoke  rua  y      ^  _  .^  ^^. 

"  '  Pass  on.  proud  aristocrat !    i  crieu.  c 

.,„ .:— ;,  -«» » '•- r„",:;.r ,— 

for  me  that  I  see  you  humbled.    I  shall  see  yo 

'"irtrrt:,'r%.ou„«c^tdeP.ini.«. 

^"■?!l"^r:^t:^;'.or«ryshame.hesnent,     YOU 
Be  suem .     nt  wi^hness     Yon  have  eaten  at 

have  .K.n  sp^ially  '-'"J^.^'^^'^^Z   „„  „„t  dare  to  ad- 
l,i^  taWe,  and  pretended  friendship  for  l..in.         ^ 

aress  him  thus,    '^■''-^-if^:^'^';:!';..,^,  gentleman, 
"I  took  no  notice  whatever  of  the  fiery  young  g« 

--^^-rtom°"cr::d::r:Lrfr::ye!:w.s 

figure,  stooped  more  from  care  ana  gne 

_  .«o/.k  which  in  baseness  rivaled  tnai  oi 
"d':^o:;— en  -mseW.  maint^ed  a  .»ee 
,h.<-h  T  felt  to  be  disapproving,  for  the  Revolutionary  fury 


TME   OAYBRS  BY   THB  SEA.  „ 

not  then  ,pre«d  it,  madness  through  the  land      A 

himself.    1  gave  such  1 '  n  '  """^  *'"'"«'"  ^  "'"  ^galit* 

/.ctor  that  rLTotjtZ  "'™"  ''*""'^  "^  "^  ^- 

-  -  p-aenr;ir:t:ir:hi:r '^"'  -^^ 

hurried.  '  """"w  we  were  speedily 

ai/:on;c;^L;;c:rt"o;r^  ^'"°  -^  ^^"-  ^ 

.h«.ugh  prudential  mot'I  a  d  i  d  """  '"  "^  ~""'""* 
patience  and  magnanin.tyoire'.'^''""''  '"  "*"'"  *"« 
n.e  with  n,y  i„iut  '  ""'  ''^''"  "'■"'  -P""^ 

"Well,  one  night  his  Highness  and  T  .^  .  . 
fortable  moments,  in  extreme  ner„r  \^  "  '™  ""'™'"- 
a  high  tower  on  a  ro~  rthfd  t  ""  "'  '""^"''"^  '""» 
iailer  found  a  stuffedTgu":  IJCZ  Zt  ""'  ""•™"'«  *"^ 
It  sat  With  head  bowed  Z  tlT^U  and  t'  "/  "''  ^'«'"^- 
not  perceive  the  exchange  Wht  1  d  7  ."'  ™"  '^  ^-^ 
»as  raised  and  echoed  faf ,„.      .     u  '"'  ""^  ''"^  '"''  ^-7 

-aitiug  with  th?i  h "  r  t ""  "^  '■"""'  •^■"-  -" 

"'-/and  Moli^?;:!,''!'"""'  r^"^'"'  »*  *"« 
.ng  where.™,  Mo^sieur'Xt  ^  1' ^  ^^  '-»•  - 

"y  the«  memor.es  rather  than  by  the  dancing 


,^  THB   CAVEKH   Bt   TBS    SEA. 

fireUght.    Jambe  d'Argent  said,  after  an  interval,  musingly.  .» 
though  his  thoughts  were  upon  that  bygone  scene : 

"I  have  played  many  parts  in  my  life,  but  never  one.  I  b^ 
lieve.  to  suoh  perfection  as  that  of  a  renegade  to  my  order  and 
a  denouncer  of  the  vices  of  nobility." 

Some  one  asked :  ,   ,_     ^x.      i<> 

«  What  became  of  the  gallant  young  Count  and  the  others? 
"  Happily  for  themselves,"  said  Jambe  d'Argent.  "they  were 
released  for  lack  of  evidence  against  them,  before  my  little 
Ste  with  Monseigneur.  Men  were  not  then  so  bloodW 
as  they  have  since  become,  and  some  form  of  trial  was  accorded. 
"  hL  the  sound  of  a  rude  song  reached  the  ears  of  the  com- 
pany. The  Marquis  sUrted.  and  even  Gaston  half  rose,  with  hi. 
hand  to  his  sword.    Jambe  d'Argent  smiled: 

« It  is  Julien  and  the  rest  of  my  men  makmg  merry  in  the 
adjoining  cavern." 

And  their  song  was  somewhat  as  follows: 

"  Ho,  ho!  Ice  and  snow! 

Summer  and  Sprlnc, 
Winter  and  Fall, 

We  merrily  sing, 

•  Ood  bless  the  King!  ' 
Confusion  and  woes 
Fall  on  his  toes! 

God  hleia  the  King!  " 

TOs  chorus  was  followed  by  the  singing,  in  a  rich  tenor  voice, 
of  a  love  song,  which  ran  thus: 

"The  maiden,  the  maiden  I  love. 
She  has  sun-bright  hair  and  a  .mil.  wHhJJrt  .««•. 
A  ch«.k  like  the  rose  and  an  eye  like  the  sloe. 
Here's  to  her  whom  I  love) 
May  the  saints  above 
Keep  that  beautiful  maid  from  harm! 


TBE   CAVBRt,  Br   TBB   SEA..  ,„ 

Whir'!"""*  '!!!  "'"'  "  ''"•'"  "'"'™"''  -P'"'  the  little  group 
winch,  Ieav.„g  the  table,  had  clustered  round  the  fire,  andTolf; 

S  the  tahf        ""^  ""•     °"""''  »'"="-«  «  P«"t"  goblet 
from  the  table,  spraug  to  his  feet  and  joined  in  the  refrain: 

"  Here'!  to  her  whom  I  love! 
May  the  salnta  above 
Keep  that  beauUhil  maid  from  harm!  ■• 

He  »ded  with  a  gallant  bow  to  Y«,„lt,  who  blushed  rosily. 
Bravo,  Count!"  eried  Jambe  d'Argent     "I  lit.  f 
man  gallant  in  love,  as  fiery  in  war  "  '"  ^^  ' 

"  ""it;  r"  r'  ''''"'"«'  '"^  '"'"'  ^  "-e  table. 

o.p...gtheti.epiea.ntiy,L„u:::re:;;::r— 

it  is  .^  '    ^      ""•"  '""  *^'''""'-  "'^  -">  ?«"»»*'»  beverage- 
It  IS  a  Burgundy  of  the  finest  bouquet "  "enrage, 

.»,,"7°V?  "^'*'  *""  "  ^'^  "'  '"«>  °"  v-nsavory  viands" 

a  argent    and  immediately  ho  knelt  reverently,  all  present  fol 
.ow.n^h.s  e.ample,  requesting  Madame  to  reci;e  theTr". 

They  are  saymg  it  within,"  he  said    when  he  h»d 
^in,  and  .11  stood  listening  to  the  hum 'of  .1  ™^'  ^Z 
ad,o.n,ng  eavern.     "We  need  to  keep  the  blessin'f  P^  V 
«^and  none  here  negl^s  night  or  mLlng  r::^:;  ^t  ^ 


1« 


TBB  MD  W   OSOt  MORE. 


CHAPTER  XII. 
THE   BBD   INN   ONCE    MORE. 

THBoroH  all  the  stormy  times  that  had  come  to  Saint  Lyphar, 
the  Bed  Inn  still  reared  its  head,  catching  the  reflection  of  the 
^„  at  morning,  and  glowing  under  ">e'.nnth  of  the  sunset^ 
Maltre  Dumartin  still  presided  there  as  of  yore,  and  heard  with.n 
his  tap-room  noisy  and  vehement  denunciations  of  anstocrat. 
in  general,  and  the  family  of  Roche  Andr*  in  particular.    Du- 
martin listened,  saying  Uttle,  for  he  krew  '—..nee  was 
.   useless,  and  even  dangerous,  but  in  his  heart  he  had  an  un- 
changing  love   and   reverence   for   the   old   feudal  lords,   who 
had  done  so  much  for  Saint  Lyphar.    He  heard  foreign  .gita- 
tors  denouncing  the  vices  of  nobility,  but  he  knew  that  the  people 
of  the  chateau  had  been  models  of  every  virtue,  as  was,  indeed, 
the  case  with  the  Breton  nobility  in  general. 

He  was  very  lonely,  Jeanne  not  daring  to  return  to  Sarnt 
Lyphar.  She  had  gone  with  the  exiled  family  of  R^^e  An«^ 
to  England,  where  her  marriage  to  Richard  Dnplessis  had  follow^ 
upon  that  of  Count  Gaston  and  Yseult  B«'^-\'«'Vl"'r 
being  virtually  widowed  by  the  departure  "'t^^' ''"''«" 
La  Vendue  to  fight  once  more  in  the  rank,  of  the  Catholic  arm^ 
Erminle,  too,  was  married  and  living  at  Nantes^  «"!  ^''^.^J  J" 
father  frequentlv,  and  often  h.  .hed  over  the  day  when  she  had 
tnced  the  "  Carmagnole  "  with  Richard  l^ride  the  Revolutionary 


Tae  RED  iKx  oyoK  morm.  jp- 

tumbril,  in  order  that  he  might  be  near  when  the  moment  c»n,P 
to  secure  the  vehicle. 

One  evening  Dumartin  8at  alono,  cowering  over  the  fire  and 
pondering  gloomily  on  all  that  he  had  heard.  A  low  knock  wa» 
heard  at  the  door,  and  m  the  innkeeper  answered  it  a  tall  but 
boyiah  figure,  wrapped  in  a  cloak,  stood  upon  the  threshold.  A, 
he  advanced  into  the  room,  Dumartin  cried  in  a  voice  of 
auppressed  excitement: 

'*  M;n;iful  heaven !  Count  Robert,  i,  it  you,  or  one  from  the 
dead  ?  " 

"  It  is  I,"  said  the  other,  his  serious  face  relaxing  into  a  smile 
"But  we  heard  you  had  fallen  with  the  brave  General  Bon- 
champ  at  Saint  Florent." 

"  I  fell,  but  I  got  up  again,  thanks  to  the  loyalty  of  a  peasant 
who  concealed  mo  in  his  hut.  Ill  of  my  wounds  for  a  long  time 
I  came  here,  to  find  the  chateau  untenanted,  and  have  so  far  been 
unable  to  discover  any  trace  of  my  family.  Speak,  Dumartin 
speak!  They  can  not  have  perished.  God  is  too  good  to  permit 
an  uigel  like  my  mother  to  faU  into  the  hands  of  those  demons  " 
"They  are  all  safe.  Monsieur,"  cried  the  honest  innkeeper  a 
smile  overspreading  his  good-humored  face,  "safe  as  can  be  and 
away  in  England,  save  Count  Gaston,  who  is  fighting  with  Gen- 
eral Charette,  The  Count  has  been  taking  a  wife,  too.  You  can 
guess  who  that  would  be !  " 
"  Mademoiselle  de  Breteuil  ? " 

"  The  same.    And  my  Jeanne  is  with  them,  and  is  the  wife  of 
another  officer  in  the  Catholic  army— Richard  Dupleseis." 

"Richard  Duplessis,  our  old   friend,"  cried  Count  Robert, 

"who  has  become  a  great  hero.    His  prnisrs  are  on  ever}-  tongue.' 

I  have  heard  mu.h  of  him.    But  how  did  thi-v  all  reach  England ? " 

"It  is  a  long  story,  too  long  to  tell  now,"  said  Dumartin. 


IM 


THE   BED   INK    OSCE   MORE. 


"Count  Oarton,  Jemrne,  and  Mile,  ie  Breteuil  were  ifcaeA 
rrom  the  tumbril  which  was  taking  them  to  the  guillotine,  and 
llichard  wag  also  got  out  of  prison,  all  through  the  doings  of 
that  supernatural  being,  that   'uiiiIh'  d'Argent." 

"  Jambe  d'Argent '  "  cried  Robert,  raising  his  hat.  "  Ood 
III.  SB  that  gallant  gentleman,  one  of  the  noblest  of  all  that  gallant 
host  that  has  risen  in  La  Vendue." 

"  He  is  uncanny,"  muttered  Dumartin;  "most  likely  he  is  a 

spirit." 

"The  spirit  of  enterprise,  of  daring,  of  heroism  I"  cried 

Hobert. 

"  And  now.  Monsieur,  what  am  I  to  do  with  you?  You  can 
not  stop  here.  Citizen  Premion  is  to  address  a  number  of  men 
to-night,  in  this  very  room,  and  his  theme  is  to  be  the  destruction 
of  the  Chateau  de  la  Roche  AndrA.  Some  say  he  will  not  permit 
them  to  destroy  it  entirely,  but  just  enough  to  satisfy  the  people, 
while  he  will  come  back  when  all  is  safe  and  live  there." 
"  The  scoundrel !  "  cried  Robert. 

"  Scoundrel  he  is,  and,  if  he  found  you  here,  your  life  would 
not  be  worth  the  snufi  of  yonder  candle." 

"But  where  shall  I  go?"  asked  the  young  man,  helplessly. 
The  innkeeper  shook  his  head. 

"  There  are  few  places  safe  for  one  of  your  name  in  Saint 
Lyphar,"  he  said.  He  stopped,  as  if  in  deep  thought,  then  all 
at  once  cried  out : 

"  I  have  it !  There  is  a  shaft  for  grain  in  my  bam.  I  will 
let  Tou  down  into  it  by  means  of  a  rope,  and  there  you  can  re- 
main in  safety  for  a  time.  I  will  come  for  you,  do  not  fear, 
whenever  I  can  do  so  without  danger,  and  you  can  enter  the  inn 
for  food  and  rest.  Come  with  me  now,  instantly,  for  I  fear 
Premion." 


TBt   RED    IN}/   OycE   MOKE.  jag 

They  went  out  together.  It  waa  still  the  dim  twilight  of 
.ummer.  Dumartin  and  tho  joungiT  mao  rtood  regarding  the 
aperture  in  the  shaft  which  w,h  soon  to  l,c  his  hi.ling-place  and 
Robert  was  about  to  attempt  the  desoent,  when  a  shadow  fell 
across  the  floor.  Dumartin  starts  guiltily,  and  Rol>ert  put  his 
hand  to  the  place  where  his  sword  had  been.  It  was  no  longer 
there,  because  from  motives  of  prudence  he  had  discarded  it 
removing  all  traces  of  his  military  profession  before  venturing 
into  Samt  Lyphar.  Next  moment  an  old  man,  who  had  a  quite 
decrepit  appearance,  -tood  upon  the  threshold,  leaning  upon  his 
stick  and  regarding  them. 

"  Alas !  "  cried  Dumartin,  «  we  are  lost !  " 
"  What  is  lost?  "  asked  the  visitor  in  a  muffled  tone.    "  Yon 
and  the  young  gentleman  have  some  interest  in  the  shaft.     We 
will  not  say  what  that  interest  is,  and  I—" 

"And  you,  Citizen-I  mean.  Monsieur— I  don't  know  what  I 
mean,"  stammered  poor  Dumartin,  flurried. 

"  I  want  to  give  Count  Hobert  de  la  Roche  Andr«  a  rendezvous 
for  to-morrow  morning  in  the  parlor  of  the  Red  Inn." 
"  What,  yon  know  him  ?  "  cried  the  innkeeper. 
"  Since,  sir,  you  are  aware  of  my  name  and  quality,"  fiid 
Count  Robert,  "  I  will  ask  you  to  explain  why  you  desire  to  give 
me  rendezvous?" 

Robert  had  much  of  the  gravity  and  impressivenesa  of  man- 
ner which  characterized  his  father,  the  exiled  Marquis,  whom  he 
resembled  much  more  than  he  did  liis  motlier. 

"You  may  trust  me  without  explanation,"  said  the  old  man. 
"  I  may  have  to  ask  you,  sir,  to  accompany  mo  upon  a  little 
jrumey." 

"Whither?" 

"  To  a  certain  seaside  resort  near  the  Sands  of  Olonne,  where 


,^  TBM   RID   my   OSCE  MOKM. 

I  once  h*d  the  plewurc  of  enterUining  Mme  other  member,  of 

jour  family." 

"  You  lire,  then—"  cried  Kobcrt,  st.pping  forward. 

"  No  name.,"  interrupted  the  other.  "  1  wear  thi.  wig,  theie 
»gn>  of  age,  thi.  air  of  decrepitude  for  a  purpo«.,  and  that  pur- 
|XMe  i.  to  lie  unltnown." 

"The  waihore!  The  pleaaure  of  .ntertaining !  "  Dumartin 
muttered.    "  Merciful  power.  I  it  must  he  JamU-  d'Argent  him- 

wlf." 

Hi.  fear  and  agitation  were  «>  great  that  he  came  within  an 

ace  of  falling  down  the  ihaft. 

"  And  you,  Dumartin,"  .aid  the  mysterioug  visitor. 
"Ye.,  your  Mightinew,— your  Wor«hip,-your  Highnea.!" 
cried  the'innkeeper,  hi.  knee,  knocking  together  in  hi.  terror,  and 
hi.  eye*  dirtended  with  fright. 

« Tu.h,  man!  Your  love  of  title,  i.  enough  to  .end  you  and 
me  both  to  the  guillotine.  Should  any  one  inquire  about  me,  I 
am  old  Dr.  Duboi.,  hark  ye,  Dumartin,  old  Dr.  Dnboi.,  decrepit 
nnd  childish." 

"  Ye«,  your— I  mean,  old  Dr.  Bubois ! " 
"  Yon  muBt  ari«;  a.  .oon  a.  it  is  light  to  admit  me  to  the  inn. 
This  voung  man,  who  is  my  attendant,  a.  I  am  not  able  to  take 
care  of  mvself,  must  be  ready  to  .tart  with  me.  I  leave  in  your 
hands  hi.  ontfit-a  red  wig  for  his  head,  a  liberty  cap  to  put  on 
top  of  it,  and  a  pair  of  rtriped  broeche.  of  the  proper  Hevolu- 
tionary  pattern,  do  you  understand?" 
"  Ye.,  Dr.  Gobois." 

"  If  you  remember  everything  else  a.  well  a.  you  remember 
mv  nami"  lanjhed  the  old  man,  "  there  is  no  possible  danger  of 
mistake.  Therefore.  I  beg  you,  too.  Count  Hobert,  to  take  note 
of  my  inBtrnctionB. 


TMM  RMO  WW   OKCM  MOItB.  I«7 

He  drew  neu  in  order  to  repmt  them  imprewively,  and  Du- 
mirtin,  weing  hia  approach,  deftly  changed  his  iweition  in  order 
to  put  Count  Kobert  between  him  and  the  formidable  vinitor. 
He  watched  him  uneaaily  from  under  his  bushy  eyebrows  all 
the  time  he  was  speaking,  and  when  by  accident  or  design  the 
stranger  put  his  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  he  executed  a  very  neat 
somersault,  and  arrived  somewhere  near  the  door.  The  old  m  n. 
laughing  at  the  mishap,  and  with  a  parting  jjesture  urging  caution. 
turned  away,  and  was  soon  lost  to  sight  in  the  gathering  d  M';n.^.- 
Dumartin,  then  arising  from  his  recumbent  posit;  n,  ni^i.ii 
the  young  gentleman  down  into  the  shaft,  where  he-  \  ,-  .  ,  - 
main  until  Premion's  meeting  was  over,  and  that  detn;i(!.^Tii  Lad 
taken  his  departure  for  Nantes,  as  he  had  announced  liis  lutei  i ,  i' 
of  doing.  Dumartin  made  his  way  back  to  the  house  verj  ^.-ip"  h , 
starting  at  shadows  and  executing  quite  a  variety  of  steps  in  hia 
constant  apprehension  of  another  meeting  with  the  terrible  Jati'^' 
d'Argent.  Dumartin  was  scarce  back  at  the  inn  when  Premion 
entered,  saluting  the  host  with  a  mocking  bow  and  a  taunting 

address. 

"  Have  you  had  news  from  yonr  pcari  of  a  daughter?    How 

she  did  cheat   Dr.  Guillotine!     Perhaps  he  may  get  another 

chance  at  her  some  day.    I  should  like  to  see  her  upon  the  scaffold 

with  her  husband." 

He  made  an  expressive  gesture,  while  his  face  grew  dark  with 

a  scowl  of  fiendish  hatred,  which  caused  Dumartin  to  tremble, 

while  Premion  went  on. 

"  Her  husband,  the  traitor,  Duplessis,  the  slave  of  priests,  the 

tool  of  aristocrats !    Some  day  T  shall  hold  him  in  my  power,  and 

then  he  shall  hum  at  a  slow  fire.     Perhaps,  if  the  widow  has 

grown  old,  I  may  throw  her  in,  too,  as  they  do  in  India.     If 

•Mil  young,  why,  she  may  be  mine  after  all." 


1«8 


THE   KSD    INS   ONCE   MORE. 


DumartiD   furtWely 


He   Unghed   with   diabolical    malice. 
croBscd  himself. 

" He  is  possessed,  this  man,"  he  thought;  "he  has  sold  him- 
self to  the  devil." 

"  Meantime,  I  don't  know  why  I  keep  your  head  from  falling 
into  the  basket.  You  are  a  traitor,  Dumartin,  a  friea.l  of  aristo- 
crats. Your  daughter  and  your  precious  son-in-law  arc  traitt.rs. 
Once  I  have  finished  this  business  of  the  chateau,  I  must  really 
have  you  guillotined." 

He  marked  with  glee  the  unspeakable  terror  of  the  innkeeper, 
and  continued  to  torment  him. 

"  The  Red  Inn  will  be  a  capital  berth  for  one  of  my  friends. 
It  has  a  splendid  site.  It  is  really  the  chief  feature  of  the  village, 
excepting  the  church,  which  I  intend  to  have  demolished  together 
with  the  chateau,  or  turned  into  a  stable." 

"  Merciful  Providence,  what  are  you  saying! "  cried  Dumartin. 
"Have  a  care  how  you  blaspheme!  Pire  Michel  said,  only  this 
morning,  that  the  punishment  of  blasphemers  is  awful." 

"  P4re  Michel !  "  Premion  thought.  "  Wliere  had  he  hr  .t.I 
of  that  man?"  Then  it  came  back  upon  him— from  the  lips  U 
Th^rise  Duval,  coupled  with  a  sinister  prophecy  of  evil  to  him- 
self. A  chill  crept  over  him,  though  the  room  was  warm.  Had 
this  P4re  Michel  some  power  of  enchantment?  He  remembered 
how  Th^rise  had  come  to  him  on  the  day  after  the  rescue,  and 
explained  why  she  had  failed  in  her  promise  to  see  Jeanne 
killed. 

"  '  PJrc  Michel  was  praying  for  me.'  she  had  said,  '  so  I  could 
not  interfere  to  prevent  a  rescue.' " 

Premion  turned  impatiently  to  Dumartin,  being  anxious  to 
rid  himself  of  this  memory. 

"  Cease  your  insolent  chatter,  and  be  careful  how  you  provoke 


TBS   RED    IXS    OyCB   MORE. 


me,  or  even  yonr  good  cooking  may  not  keep  you  alive  another 
week." 

Duroartin  trembled  and  was  silent. 

"  Who  is  this  P4re  Michel  ?  "  Premion  demanded  suddenly, 
harking  back  involuntarily  to  that  unpleasant  subject. 

"  The  beggar  who  sits  by  the  church  wall." 

"Where  is  he  now?" 

"Here!"  said  a  muffled  voice,  and  old  P4re  Michel  stood 
liefore  them,  a  tattered  cloak  covering  his  bent  shoulders.  "  I 
have  heard  all,  and  I  tell  you,  Morin-Premion,  that  the  punish- 
ment of  blasphemers  shall  fall  upon  you  soon,  if  you  do  not  change 
your  course." 

Even  in  Premion's  mocking  laugh  could  be  detected  his  in- 
ward fear — cold,  creeping,  like  that  which  passes  over  those  of 
strong  imaginations  on  entering  a  graveyard.  The  old  man 
raised  his  hand  with  an  impressive  gesture,  as  if  reminding  Pre- 
mion of  God  above  them.  Then  he  passed  slowly  to  his  customary 
seat  in  the  chimney  corner,  bending  down  over  the  glowing 
embers,  and  apparently  oblivious  of  all  about. 

"  This  old  scarecrow,  too,  must  be  shortened  by  a  head,"  said 
Premion,  looking  after  him. 

"  Touch  him  not  I    He  is  a  saint ! "  cried  out  Dumartin. 

"  The  saints  of  the  Revolution,  Citizen,"  said  Premion,  "  are 
those  who  kill  most  priests  and  nuns,  rob  most  churches " 

The  conversation,  to  Dumartin's  relief,  was  interrupted  by 
the  entrance  of  a  noisy  crew,  who  had  come  to  attend  the  ve- 
pubhcan  meeting.  Then  ensued  a  jingling  of  glasses,  uoarse 
laughter,  rude  jests,  ribald  or  blasphemous,  till  Premion  rose  to 
speak.  He  had  sat  somewhat  silent  at  the  table  in  the  cente-  of 
the  room,  for  over  all  the  din  he  heard  as  clear  as  a  bell  the  wo  -ds 
of  Th*r4se  and  the  subsequent  warning  of  Fire  Michel.     Tet, 


IM 


TBU  BMD   im   OVOB   MORM. 


once  on  his  feet,  he  hnrled  defiance  at  hie  own  very  mugiringa, 
speaking  with  a  reckless  desperation  unusual  to  him.  He  de- 
nounced more  fiercely  than  ever  all  that  waa  meet  sacred,  and 
especially  urged  upon  his  hearers  the  work  of  demolition,  which 
he  would  undertake  upon  his  return. 

"  The  chateau  shall  disappear,"  he  said,  "  or  be  given  to  some 
brave  tarn  culotte,  who  will  hold  it  for  the  nation.  The  church 
shall  follow.    Tyranny  and  superstition  shall  fall  together." 

"  Speak  on,  Citizen  Premion,"  said  a  voice,  "  and  reek  not 
that  the  hour  of  doom  is  approaching." 

Premion  started  and  turned  pale.  His  glance  went  first  to 
P4re  Michel,  but  his  head  was  bent  upon  his  breast  in  the  cus- 
tomary attitude  of  contemplation. 

"  Search  the  room ! "  commanded  Premion. 

The  room,  the  outhouses,  and  the  road  outside  were  searched. 
The  Jacobins  present,  for  fear  of  being  themselves  suspected, 
were  overaeelous  in  the  examination.  But  nothing  was  dis- 
covered, for  old  Dr.  Dubois  had  managed  to  take  his  departure 
from  the  window  without  in  the  first  movement  of  surprise  and 
alarm.  From  a  secure  hiding-place  he  laughed  at  the  panic 
which  he  had  created  by  assuming  the  r61e  of  prophet. 

"  I  argue  merely  from  the  logic  of  events,"  he  said  to  him- 
self. "The  Revolution  is  already  beginning  to  devour  its  own 
progeny.  Already  many  of  the  most  conspicuous  Jacobins  have 
fallen.    Many  more  must  follow." 

Meanwhile  in  the  inn  parlor,  though  all  had  returned  to  their 
seats,  conjecture  and  surmise  were  blended  with  a  feeling  of 
almost  superstitious  terror.  The  wind  without  seemed  to  have  a 
voice,  penetrating  long  dead  consciences  with  unspeakable  terrors. 
The  crackling  of  the  flames  on  the  hearth  had  something  por- 
tentous in  its  sound,  and  the  figure  of  old  Michel  assumed  an 


TBE  JMO  nnr  o»om  more. 


uoeannjr  upcct.  Citizen  Premion,  braving  it  ont,  cmtinucd  to 
denounce  ariBtocrata,  Moderates,  Oirondiata,  to  utter  horrible 
inaledictione  against  the  clergy  and  the  noblee,  until,  at  last, 
he  roee,  lighted  a  cigar,  ai.^  took  a  farewell  glass  of  cognac. 

"  I  shall  leave  you,  good  friends,"  he  said,  lightly.  "  I  take 
the  midnight  express  for  Nantes,  but  first  I  must  freshen  my 
wits  by  the  coolness  of  the  night  air." 

Passing  out  into  the  night,  he  wandered  aimlessly  hither  and 
thither,  d,isiring  to  pass  the  time  between  that  and  midnight, 
for  the  tumult  of  the  inn  parlor  had  became  intolerable  to  him, 
and  he  had  read  in  the  scared  faces  of  the  men  how  deeply  that 
mysterious  warning  had  touched  them.  Whether  it  was  some 
sound  which  he  heard,  or  merely  the  inetinct  of  the  bloodhound 
gaining  scent  of  the  prey,  it  is  impossible  to  tell,  but  he  approached 
the  door  of  the  outhouse  where  Count  Robert  lay  concealed,  and, 
entering,  struck  a  match.  As  he  did  so,  he  heard  a  muffled  voice, 
crying: 

"  Is  that  you,  Dumartin  ?  " 

He  answered  in  a  feigned  voice  that  it  was. 

"  Then,  for  heaven's  sake,  let  me  come  up,"  complained  the 
voice.  "  I  am  cramped  and  stiff,  cold  and  hungry.  I  would 
rather  face  a  score  of  sans  culottes  than  stay  another  moment." 

"  Wait  but  an  instant !  "  cried  Premion,  and,  returning  hastily 
to  the  inn,  he  found  there  still  a  dozen  or  so  of  the  wretches  with 
whom  he  had  lately  been  carousing. 

"  There  is  good  sport  for  us,  my  children,"  he  cried.  "  Du- 
martin has  been  hiding  an  aristocrat  in  his  grain  shaft.  Come 
till  we  pluck  him  ont.  To-morrow  the  inn  is  yours.  Dumartin 
shall  answer  at  the  tribunal  for  the  crime." 

The  unfortunate  innkeeper,  deadly  pale,  stood  motionless  with 
terror. 


m 


TUB   RtD   tyS    OKCB   MORS. 


"  Tell  U8  whom  you  have  in  hiding,  my  good  Citizen  Du- 
martin  ?  "  said  Premion ;  "  though,  indeed,  it  matters  little,  for 
you  and  he  shall  go  to  Nantes  in  company." 

Dumartin  extended  his  hands  in  supplication,  and  Premion 
added  in  a  low,  stem  voice,  intended  for  Dumartin's  ears  alone : 

"  The  father's  head  shall  now  pay  for  the  daughter's  offenses 
against  me."  And  he  passed  on,  followed  by  the  half-score  of 
Jacobins,  bearing  lanterns  and  making  night  hideous  with  their 
clamor.  They  presently  brought  forth  the  young  aristocrat,  who, 
seeing  into  what  a  fatal  error  he  had  fallen  in  betraying  his  hid- 
ing-place, maintained  a  dignified  and  unruffled  composure,  which 
was  the  almost  invariable  tradition  of  his  order  in  these  times  of 
social  upheaval. 

"  Your  name  and  station  ?  "  arised  Premion. 
"  I  know  of  no  right  by  which  you  question  me,"  answered 
Count  Robert. 

"  You  shall  presently  know,"  retorted  Premion ;  "  but  you 
can  not  deceive  me  by  evasion.  You  bear  in  every  line  of  your 
face  the  seal  of  those  accursed  Hoche  Andrfa.  You  are  the 
ci-devant  Count  Robert." 

There  was  a  howl  from  the  scoundrels  who  accompanied 
Premion.  Nearly  all  were  strangers  to  Saint  Lyphar,  and  every 
man  a  pronounced  Jacobin  of  the  fiercest  tj-pe. 

"  Secure  this  beast  of  an  aristocrat ! "  cried  Premion,  "  and 
ake  him  to  the  Red  Inn." 

Only  once  did  Count  Robert  show  the  slightest  emotion,  and 
that  was  when  he  beheld  the  ashen  face  and  trembling  Umbs  of  the 
poor  innkeeper. 

"  Dumartin !  "  the  young  man  cried,  "  forgive  me  for  the  mis- 
fortunes T  have  brought  upon  your  house." 

"  It  matters  not.  Count  Robert,"  said  the  poor  man,  trying 


THE   RED   tNli    ONCE   MOBS. 


178 


to  speak  finnly.  "  I  would  do  the  same  again,  and  more,  for  any 
of  jour  race." 

"  You  shall  have  the  advantage  of  going  to  prison,  and  prob- 
ably to  the  guillotine,  for  him,"  sneered  Premion.  "  Secure  the 
old  man,  too,  my  brave  sans  culottes,  and  to  the  cellar  with  him, 
among  liis  own  wine  casks !  " 

The  order  was  obeyed,  and  presently  poor  Dumartin  found  him- 
self securely  bound,  in  the  darkness  of  the  cellar,  while  Count 
Robert  was  locked  into  a  small  apartment,  which  served  as  a  larder, 
with  but  a  grating  high  up  in  the  wall  for  a  window.  At  dawn 
Morin-Premion  set  out  to  take  the  train  for  Xantes,  having  lost  the 
midnight  express  in  the  excitement  of  his  great  discovery.  He  de- 
clared that  he  would  return  in  a  day  or  two  with  warrants  for 
the  prisoners,  and  a  sufficient  number  of  Marat  men  and  other 
true  patriots  to  strengthen  their  hands  in  the  assault  upon  the 
chateau. 

"  It  is  yours,  true  republicans,"  he  said,  "  since  those  traitors 
of  nobles  have  fled  the  country.  It  has  a  rich  store  of  food,  of 
wines,  of  plate,  and  jewels.  They  shall  be  yours,  my  children, 
upon  my  return." 

He  set  out  jauntily  from  the  Red  Inn,  little  guessing  that 
foot  of  his  should  cross  the  threshold  no  more,  and  that  a  Nemesis 
was  waiting  for  him  at  Nantes  in  the  shape  of  the  spy  whom  he 
had  once  struck.  Meantime  the  village  of  Saint  Lyphar,  as  well 
as  that  once  hospitable  and  prospe.-ous  hostelry,  was  filled  with 
the  scum  of  neighboring  towns,  gathering  like  crows  about  carrion 
for  the  feast  of  plunder  which  Premion  had  promised.  They 
emptied  the  larder,  they  drained  the  wine  casks ;  in  their  drunken 
fury  they  broke  the  furniture  and  defaced  the  walls.  The  old 
odiflee,  battered,  defiled,  with  broken  windows  and  donr  torn 
from  its  binges,  looked  the  very  picture  of  forlorn  ape.    Dumartin 


174  THE   RMD   IKS   OHOB   MORE. 

and  the  young  Count  were  meanwhile  fed  on  the  meieit  acrap*  of 
the  coarseat  food,  barely  sufficient  for  their  sustenance. 

The  self-styled  patriots  scoured  the  streets,  pillaged  the  farms, 
whence  most  of  the  men  had  gone  to  the  camp  of  Grand  Bordage. 
Saint  Lyphar  had  become  a  horror  to  itself,  with  these  hordes 
of  bawling  ruffians,  in  red  cap,  woolen  spencers,  hoarsely  filling 
the  once  pure  and  peaceful  atmosphere  with  the  "  Carmagnole." 

They  waited  for  Preraion,  but  Premion  did  not  come,  and 
at  last  they  made  up  their  minds  that  they  would  wait  no  longer. 
He  was  not  their  master.  He  had  no  claim  upon  the  chateau. 
Tbey  would  go  thither  and  enrich  themselves  with  all  that  it 
contained.  They  were  urged  forward  to  this  desperate  course  by 
the  growing  scarcity  of  food  and  drink  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Saint  Lyphar. 

It  was  a  lowering  afternoon,  gray  and  threatening,  when 
these  demons  of  discord  began  to  assemble  about  the  castle, 
which  had  been  so  long  a  place  of  benediction.  The  terror  wad 
at  its  height  all  over  France.  Law  and  order  had  been  set  at 
naught,  and  the  fire  from  burning  chateaus  mingled  with  the 
blood-stained  atmosphere,  and  sent  up  fearful  petitions  to  offended 
heaven. 

Forth  from  the  inn  swarmed  the  leaders,  if  leaders  any  conld 
be  called  in  the  motley  throng  of  desperadoes,  calling  upon  all 
to  follow.  Up  the  rocky  path  they  rushed,  arming  themselves 
with  sticks,  with  stones,  with  flails.  But  a  few  among  them 
carried  firearms.  Their  dark  and  evil  faces  were  alight  with  the 
passion  of  greed,  the  fury  of  destructivencss.  They  made  batter- 
ing rams  from  the  stumps  of  trees,  and  carried  with  them  barrows, 
which  they  had  stolen  from  the  farmers,  to  bear  hence  the  plunder. 
They  raised  a  wild  chanting  of  the  "  Carmagnole,"  and.  with  a 
storm  of  curses  and  execrations,  shook  their  fists  at  the  grand  old 


Tat   HtD   INN   ONOS   MORS. 


m 


pile  which  row  ibove  them,  ae  though  it  had  been  a  sentient  thing 
and  guilty  itself  of  oppreesion.  Then,  with  a  mad,  determined 
nuh,  they  broke  open  a  postern  door  and  began  to  bring  forth 
the  storee.    Suddenly  a  stem  voice  rose  above  the  tumult. 

"  Jacobins  I  Friends  of  liberty  I "  it  said.  "  You  have  been 
waiting  for  Citizen  Fremion.  He  was  guillotined  at  noon  to^ay  I " 

An  awful  silence  fell  upon  the  clamorous  multitude,  and  some 
among  them  remembered  the  mysterious  warning  which  had  been 
ottered  at  the  Red  Inn,  and  the  words  of  Fire  Michel.  All  eyes 
were  fixed  upon  a  tall  figure,  wrapped  in  a  cloak. 

"  Yon  are  mad ! "  cried  the  more  courageous.  "  Whoever  you 
may  be,  you  are  dreaming.  Fremion  is  no  traitor,  but  an  honest 
republican.    He  was  here  but  lately,  and  expected  to  return." 

"  True ! "  said  the  stranger,  "  he  left  the  Red  Inn  of  Saint 
Lyphar,  taking  the  train  for  Nantes.  On  his  arrival,  he  was 
arrested  there  on  the  accusation  of  one  who  had  acted  as  his  spy. 
The  charge  was  grave,  that  of  being  in  correspondence  with  the 
^migris  at  Coblentz.  His  treasonable  papers  were  given  up  by 
bis  accuser ! " 

Again  there  was  a  pause,  and  then  a  fierce  fhont  of  "  Down 
with  Fremion !  Down  with  the  traitor,  who  would  have  sold  the 
people ! " 

"Aye,  down  with  Fremion  and  all  his  works,"  said  the 
stranger;  "and  I  warn  you  now  to  desist  frcm  this  task  which 
Fremion  commanded.  Tjcave  the  chateau  *o  the  proper  authori- 
ties." 

Such  a  cry  of  rage  broke  out  at  these  words  that  it  scared  the 
sea-birds  in  their  nests  on  the  Marais  and  woke  the  echoes  of 
the  Bocage — a  furious  outburst  of  cries,  yells,  denunciations, 
blasphemies.  Tho  tijer.  deprived  of  its  prey,  is  not  moK 
ferocious;  the  cobra,  uncoiled  from  its  expected  victim,  ia  not 


176 


THE   RED    INN   ONOE   MOKW. 


more  venomous.  They  would  tear  the  csetle  stone  from  stone. 
They  would  burn  it  to  ushes,  once  pillaged  of  its  treasures. 
It  was  a  wild  scene,  terrific  even,  with  the  background  of  an  angry 
sky,  dull  red  on  ashen  gray.  The  passions  of  those  fierce  men 
rose  tumultuous  as  a  tempest  and  turned  against  the  stranger, 
who  stood  calmly  with  folded  arms  looking  at  them.  He  had 
risked  much  on  that  one  venture,  and  he  now  knew  that,  with 
all  his  marvelous  ingenuity  ai.'  -csourcefulness,  he,  Jambe 
d'Argent,  was  powerless  to  sa'  ■  ihe  chateau,  or  even  his  own 
life.  He  very  deliberately  Jrt  his  sword,  as  a  ring  of  brutal- 
faced  ruffians  began  to  close  about  him. 

"  He  is  an  aristocrat '.  "  they  shrieked.  "  He  seeks  to  save  this 
nest  of  aristocrats  and  deprive  honest  republicans  of  their  due. 
Wo  shall  bum  the  chateau,  and  roast  him  at  the  same  fire  which 
consumes  it." 

"  Meantime,  I  should  advise  you  not  to  draw  too  near,"  ob- 
served .Tambe  d'Argent ;  "  this  is  a  very  keen  Wade  of  mine,  a 
pretty  piece  of  steel,  with  a  pretty  taste  in  samcuhtiM." 

"Tear  him  to  pieces!  Close  upon  him!  Break  his  sword 
into  bits!  "  screamed  the  furious  Jacobins,  waving  their  red  caps. 
But  it  was  those  in  the  background  ■  ho  did  most  of  the 
screaming,  and  the  men  who  were  quite  cloee  to  Jambe  d'Argent 
were  in  no  haste  to  draw  near.  Something  in  the  resolute  mien 
of  the  man  awed  them,  and  the  flash  of  his  sword  seemed  to 
dazzle  their  eyes.  Yet  not  even  the  strongest  will  nor  the  most 
determined  bravery  on  the  part  of  one  man  can  long  prevail 
against  a  horde  of  lawless  men,  whose  passions  are  inflamed  by 
greed  or  cruelty.  A  simultaneous  yell  was  uttered,  and  a  mad 
liiBh  from  behind  thrust  forward  those  surrounding  Jambe 
d'Argent,  so  that  his  sword  was  all  but  ineffectual.  Pikes  were 
raised  above  his  head,  muskets  pointed  at  his  heart,  and  one 


TUB   RgD   tXS   ONCt!   MOHt. 


m 


gigantic  ruffian  brancli.hed  a  flail  closf  to  the  liead  that  had 
planned  ao  many  a  daring  schemi'  for  faith  and  royalty.  Jamb« 
d'Argent  looked  alioiit  liim  mi  in»tunt,  commending  hi»  soul  to 
God,  and  raising  hia  eyen  to  the  angry  heavens.  But  another  sound 
broke  upon  the  stillness : 

"  Vive  la  religion  Callwlique!  Long  live  the  King !  Soldiera 
of  the  Catholic  and  Royal  Army,  upon  them !  " 

It  was  the  voice  of  Uaston  de  la  Riwhe  Andr«,  and  his  gallant 
young  figure  presently  leapfd  inti,  the  very  center  of  the  throng, 
his  sprig  of  oak  in  his  hat  and  hia  scapular  in  his  buttonhole.  Olose 
following  him  came  Richar<l,  witi  whole  host  of  others,  wear- 
ing the  well-known  uniform  of  La  Vendee. 

"Men  of  Saint  l.>|>har:"  cried  Gaston,  "save  first  our 
leader,  and  th.n  the  chateau  !  " 

A  scene  of  wild  confusion  ensued. 

"We  are  M  rayed !  The  brigands  are  upon  us!"  cried  the 
republicans ;  "  the  brigands  of  La  Vcnd^ !  " 

And  they  strove  to  fly,  to  hide  themselvca,  the  few  who 
thought  of  fight  turning  with  a  dnwdful  desperation  upon  those 
redoubtable  peasant  soldiers  who  had  inspired  in  the  ranks  of 
the  republicans  everywhere  so  great  a  dread.  Cursing,  swearing, 
howling,  they  struck  madly  about  with  whatever  weapon  came 
to  baud,  some  turning  in  their  mad  terror  upon  their  own  com- 
rades. Xever  had  the  chateau  witnessed  such  a  spectacle.  Vever 
had  the  village  of  Saint  Lyphar  heard  such  sounds. 

"  Count  Gaston !  Duplessis !  "  cried  the  Vendeana,  using  thow 
names  as  battle-cries,  "lead  on,  we  follow!  To  the  rescue!  to 
the  rescue ! " 

"  Aye,  to  the  rescue,  brave  hearts !  "  cried  Gaston,  snatching 
off  his  hat  and  waving  it,  as  he  dashed  through  the  close  circle 
about  Jamhe  d'Argent,  which  remained  rather  through  fear  and 


in 


THE   HMD   ISS    OUCB   UOHt. 


bewUdeiment  thin  from  iny  purpow  of  renewing  the  «ttMk 
upon  the  redoubtable  leader. 

«  I  am  safe,  my  children,"  wiid  Jambe  d'Ar^nt,  imiling  upon 
them,  ai  Gaiton  and  Richard  almoat  at  the  aai^e  time  reached  hii 
8idc,  "  but  we  have  work  to  do  yet.  We  mnrt  purge  Saint  Lyphar 
thii  time,  or  her  atmosphere  will  become  poiaoned." 

He  was  off  to  a  distant  part  of  the  field  as  he  spoke,  his 
sword  flashing  as  some  magical  talisman,  his  UU  form  everywhere 
oonspicuous. 

"  It  is  the  devil  I  "  cried  some  of  the  republicans,  flying  before 

him. 

"  It  is  Jambc  d' Argent,  who  has  brought  the  brigands  here 
by  his  accursed  sorcery,"  cried  others,  slinking  away  out  of  his 

path. 

"Give  tiuarterl"  cried  Gaston,  "give  quarter  to  those  who 
yield.    Remember,  we  are  the  Catholic  and  Royal  Army." 

"  But  to  those  who  resist,  drnth  !  "  cried  the  sterner  Richard. 

It  was  late  when  the  fight  was  done.  The  republicans,  dis- 
persed, were  fl.ving  in  all  directions,  striving  to  leave  Saint 
Lyphar  behind  them,  save  the  score  or  so  who  had  fallen  and  the 
prisoners  who  had  been  taken.  That  night  the  Red  Inn  of  Saint 
Lyphar  was  full  of  sullen-faced  men,  securely  bound  and  guarded. 
They  were  the  revelers  of  the  previous  nights  and  the  pillagers 
who  robbed  the  Red  Inn  ot  its  glory.  But  despite  its  half- 
ruined  state,  never  in  itf  history  did  a  more  joyful  little  party 
«t  down  to  supper  than  upon  that  nipht.  Tl'.o  materials  for  the 
supper  were  brought  chiefly  trr.m  the  castle,  and  prepared  and 
nerved  bv  Hcnriot. 

The  three  leaders  of  La  Vendue,  Jamhe  d'Arjrent.  Count  Gas- 
ton, and  Duplessis,  were  seated  with  Count  Robert,  still  weak  and 
worn  from  his  recent  sufterings,  and  Dumartin,  gradually  re- 


Till   RED   INN   ONCB    MOKI. 


lit 


mrenng  nn<ler  thp  influonct-  of  food  tnd  wine.  A  fire  glowpd 
upon  the  he«rth,  ™»tin(f  it«  /7I0W  over  the  brnwn  beama  of  the 
ceiling,  the  liwnged  window,  and  the  ploiMnt  group  at  tabic. 
They  chatted  gaily  of  pant  changes,  of  hopeful  proapccta  for  the 
future,  with  many  a  temii  remembrance  of  the  dear  onei  beyond 
the  water. 

"  All  ii  well  BO  far,"  laid  Jambe  d'Argcnt.  "  We  Khali  have 
fighting  yrt  to  do,  and,  if  we  are  >parcd,  we  shall  lee  stranger 
event!,  for  oiir  country  has  to  shake  off  a  fearful  nightmare.  But 
it  is  gradually  becoming  purified,  and  the  people  are  awaking 
from  their  mad  drcom  of  blood.  They  have  seen  the  heroism  of 
the  priests,  the  true  priests  of  Ood,  and  here  in  U  Veaite  they 
have  thrown  in  their  lives  with  the  people,  and  have  led  the  hosts 
of  God.  Here  in  our  Breton  provinces,  and,  thank  Ood,  through- 
out Franc,  noble  and  heroic  deeds  have  almost  outnumlxn.l 
those  of  horror.  Meanwhile,  let  ns  pledge  the  Catholic  and  Hoyiil 
Army  I " 

The  toast  was  drunk,  standing  and  in  silence. 

"  Jambe  d'Argent !  "•  cried  Gaston,  raising  his  glass  once 
more,  "  our  inspired  leader,  who  has  so  often  saved  us." 

"  The  family  of  Roche  Andr« !  "  cried  Bichard  next. 

"  Our  brave  Duplessis !  "  added  Gaston,  while  at  suggestion 
of  Count  Robert,  a  final  toast  was  drunk : 

"To  Dumartin  and  the  Rm  Inn  op  Saint  Ltphar." 

•  A  bi»T«  soldier  and  leader  In  the  Vandean  army  was  known  by 
this  quaint  title  of  Silver  Leg,  because  of  a  band  of  sliver  which  ht 
wore  to  conceal  a  wound.  But  I  have  not  followed  the  historical 
narrative  In  his  regard,  either  as  to  station  or  particular  achieve- 
ments. I  have  borrowed  merely  hia  name.  The  same  Is  the  case 
with  Duplessis.    All  the  other  charactera  are  Dctltious. 


PBINTED  BY  BEN2I0BH  BB0TBIB8,  NEW  TOHK  CITT. 


Mioocorr  aEsouiriON  risi  chmt 

(ANSI  ond  rso  TEST  CHABT  No  2) 


M2a 
121 


■  22 


y^i^jL 


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JUVENILE    BOOKS 

s>  Copyrighted  Stories  for  the  Young,  by  the  Best  Authora 
Speciil  n«  price,  $10.00 

You  fR  the  book!  «  ohm.  •ad  t«T.  Ifce  «•«  of  Hem    while  nlklm  • 
Rc«d  cxplsution  of  our  Circnlatinf  Libriry  pl»°  oo  *rit  paje 


Juvenile  Library  A 


S.J. 


TOM   PIAYFAIR;   OR,  MAKING  A  START      By   KK.,  F.  J.  Fi.it, 

■The  be«  boj'l  book  lh«  ever  c«me  from  the  preu. 
THE  CAVE  BY  THE  BEECH  FORK.     By  Rn.  H.  S.  Sfai.oi.0,  S.J.     "Thl. 

U  ft  itory  full  of  fo  ind  adventure. 

UAPRV  nil^SRTI.  A  ROCKLAND  COLLEGE  BOY.     By  R«v.  J.  E.  Corol, 
HARRY  «!^|S^-'j„A  RtJCKLABU  VjU      ^^^  ^^^^  ^^^^  p{„  ^„  ^ 

him,  through  the  yeftre  to  irftdufttion. 
CHARLIE    CHITTYWICK.      By    Riv.    David    ButliK,.  S.J.      Fftther    BcuiM 

•howr  .  "  ondiful    knowleLe    .ud    Sue    ftPPjecUt^u    of    boy    ebftrftct^. 

There  is  no  mftrlr  of  mawkuhneti  m  the  book. 
NAN  NOBODY.     By  Mait  T.  Waooamau.     "Keept  one   fucinftted  till  t»« 

lut  pftge  is  reached."  ,»».(, 

LOYAL  BLUE  AND  ROYAL  SCARLET.  ^By  Ma.ioh   A.  Taooabi.       Will 

helj  kMp  a«X  the  atrain  of  hero  worrtiip  .nd  Ideal  patriotism. 
THE  GOLDEN  LILY.     By  KATlAnas  T.  Hinisoii.    "Another  proof  of  the 

author'a  wonderful  genius." 
THE  MYSTERIOUS  DOORWAY.    By  Akha  T.  Saiiu««.      A  bright,  apMk- 

OLd'cHARLHONT'S  SEED-BED.    By  Sa«  T.  S»ith.    "A  delightful  atotj 

of  Southern  achool  life."  ,„-_j_ 

THE  MADCAP  SET  AT  ST.  ANNE'S.     By  Majiok  J.  B.o»ow«.       Plenty 

of  fun  and  frolk,  with  high  moral  principle. 
BUNT  AND  BILL.     By  Claba  Molhoixauo.     "There  are  pasaagei  of  true 

pathoa  and  humor  in  this  pretty  tale.  

Tnir  FtnWFH  OF  THE  FLOCK.     By  MAuaicu  F.  Eoak.     'TTiey  are  by  no 
™UiS  hSni^  y™,  iiiSi  and  ieir  hearts  lie  in  the  r»h.  P'«"'' 
PICKLE  AND  PEPPER.     By  Ella  L.  Doasn.     "This  story  is  clever  and 

witty— there  is  not  a  dull  page."  •      ^ 

A  HOSTAGE  OF  WAR.     By  MAar  G.,  BoHiaTin.     "A  wide-awake   story, 

brimful  of  incident  and  easy  humor. 
AN  EVERY  DAY  GIRL.    By  Maiy  T.  Capwlir.    "One  ot  the  few  talea  thai 

will  appeal  to  the  heart  of  every  girl. 
ASTRUEASGOLD.    By  Mabt  E.  Mahuii.    "This  book  will  make  a  name 

AN  HEIh'oF  DREAMS.     By  S.  M.  O'Mal™.     "The  book  U  destined  to 

become  a  true  friend  of  our  boya.  c        *    ..:- 

Tm  MV^TPRV  OF  HORNBY  HALL.    By  Arwa  T.  Sadum.  ,^Sure  to  stir 

™^.h?blSd  of  e?erf™"l  b?y  end  to  delist  with  iu  6»er  touches  the  heart 

TWo'u™,e"gIRLS.'    By  Liiuak  Mac«.    "A  real  tale  of  real  children." 

BIDINGDALE  FLOWER  SHOW.     By  Rev.  Davib  Biaski,  S.J.      His  aym- 

J^iritt  Swtoid  ii  so  .vide«  ind  hia  underatanding  so  pBf«t. 


20  Copyrighted  Stories  for  the  Young 

By  the  Best  Catholic  Writers 

SPKCIA.Zk    NBT    F*RICB,    910.00 

yi.oo  down,  li.oo  a  month 
Kwd  explanation  of  our  Circulatinc  Library  plan  on  prcccdL'*!  pafaa 


Juvenile  Library  B 

HIS  FIRST  AND  LAST  APPEARANCE.     By  Riv.  F.  J.  Fimi,  SJ.     Pro- 

fuKly    illustrated.      "A    delightful    itory   by    Father    Finn,    which    will    br 

popular  with  the  girls  as  well  as  with  the  boys." 
THE  SHERIFF  OF  THE    BEECH    FORK.      By    Rev.   H.   S.   Sfaidiko,    S.J. 

"From  the  outset  tfae  reader's  attention  is  captivated  and  never  lags." 
SAINT  CUTHBERT'S.     By  R«v.  J.   E.  Copus.  S.J.     "A  tnilj  inspiring  tale. 

full  of  excitement." 
THE  TAMING  OF   POLLY.     By  Ella   Lobaini    Dorsey.     "Polly  with    her 

cool  head,  ber  pure  heart  and  stern  Western  sense  of  justice." 
STRONG-ARM  OF  AVALON.    By  Mabv  T.  Waccaman.    "Takes  hold  of  the 

interest  and  of  the '  heart  and  never  lets  go." 
JACK  HILDRETH  ON  THE  NILE.     By  C.   May.     "Courage,  truth,  honest 

dealing  with  friend  and  foe." 
A  KLONDIKE  PICNIC.     By  Elsamos  C.  DomtnxY.     "Alive  with  the  charm 

that  b'.:Iongs  to  cbililbood." 
h   COLli^GE    BOY.     By    Amtbomy    Yorkk.     "Healthy,    full   of   life,    full    of 

Incident." 
THE  GREAT  CAPTAIN.     By  Kathakiits  T.  Himuoit.     "Makes  the  most 

interesting  and  delightful  reading." 
THE  YOUNG  COLOR  '"'JARD.     By  Mary  G.   Bomisthl.     "The  attractiva- 

iiess  of  tbe  tale  '  lanced  by  the  realneea  that  pervades  it." 

THE   HALDEMAN  ..DREN.     By   Mary   £.    Mannix.     "Full    of   people 

entertaining,  refineu,  and  witty." 
PAULINE  ARCHER.     By  Anma  T.   Saduxi.     "Sure  to  captivate  the  hearts 

of  all  juvenile  readers." 
TBE  ARMORER  OF  SOLINGEN.     By  W.  Hxbchxmbach.     "Cannot  fail  to 

inspire  honest  ambition." 
THE    INUNDATION.      By    Camow    Schmio.      "Sure    to    please    the    young 

readers  for  whom  it  ia  intended." 
THE  BLISSYLVANIA  POST-OFFICE.     By  Maxioii  A.  Tagoart.     "Pleasing 

and  captivating  to  young  people." 
DIMPLING'S   SUCCESS.     By  Clara  Mvlrollahd.     "Vivacious  and  natural 

and  cannot  fail  to  be  a  favorite." 
BISTOURI-     By   A.    MtLAWDat.     "How   Bistouri  traces  out  tfae  plotters   and 

foils  them  makes  interesting  reading." 
FRED'S  LITTLE  DAUGHTER.     By  Sara  T.  Smith.     "The  heroine  wins  her 

way  into  the  heart  of  every  one." 
THE   SEA-GULL'S  ROCK.     By  J.   Sawdiad.     "The  intrepidity  of  the  little 

hero  will  appeal  to  every  boy." 
JtTVENlLE  ROUND  TABLE.     First  Sniia.     A  collection  of  twenty  atoi^M 

by  the  foremost  writers,  with  many  full-page  iUustrationa. 


20  Copyrighted  Stories  for  the  Young 

By  the  Best  Catholic  Writers 
SpBoiAik  N«x  Priob,  910.00 

ti.oo  down,  ti.oo  a  month 

Rttd  expUnatloD  of  our  Circulatlac  Library  pUn  on  preceding  p^ea 


Juvenile  Library  C 


F.  J.  Fi«»,  S.J. 
SFAtniHQ,     SJ. 


PERCY  WYNN;  OR,  MAKING  A  BOY  OF  HIM.    By  R«y. 

"Tlie  molt  lucceHful  CstlioUc  juvenile  publiihed." 
THE    RACE    FOR    COPPER    ISLAND.      B7    Rnr.    H.    S. 

"Fttlier  SpildiDs'a  dcecriptioni  equal  thoae  of  Cooper." 
SHADOWS  LIFTED.     B,  Hi..  J.  E.  Cop»*   S.J.     "We  know  of  no 

•Qorc  ddicbtful  and  interesting." 
HOW    THEY    WORKED    THEIR    WAY,    AND    OTHER    STORIES 

HAUIILB     F,     EoAM.        "A     l>tintn>     OAll.»tlA«     ^M     .1 : I .t     ., 

popular   writers." 
WINNETOU.  THE  APACHE  KNIGHT. 

leM  intcreit." 
MILLY  AVELING.     By  Saia  Tmikm  Sii«h, 

Smith  hu  ever  written.'" 


A  choice  collection  of  atoriet  by  oue  of  the  moM 

By  C.  Mat.    "Chapters  of  breath 

"The  best  atory  Sara  Trainaa 


By  Makt  T.  Waooahait. 


THE  TRANSPLANTING  OF  TESSIE. 

cellcnt  girl's  story." 
THE   PLAYWATER  PLOT.     By  Maet  T.   Waooamab.     "How  the  plotter* 

are  captured  and  the  boy  rescued  makes  a  very  interesting  story." 
AN  ADVENTURE  WITH  THE  APACHES.     By  Gaiiisl  Ft«Y 
PANCHO   AND   PANCHITA.     By   M*«t   E.    Makhix.     "Full   of  color  and 

warmtn  oi  lifs  tn  old  Mexico." 
RECRUIT  TOMMY  COLLINS.     B,  Maiy  C.   BoNaiTiiL.     "Man,  a  borlah 

lleart  will  beat  ai  envio'ii  admiration  of  litUe  Tommy" 
»lf  B«*NSCOME  HI>^R.     By  M«aio»  A.  TAOo»aT.     "A  crediuble  book  in 

THE  QUEEN;S  PAGE.     By  K«TBAai„  Ty»«»  Hi».»,.     "Will  aroiue  tbe 

youns  to  mterett  m  hiatorica]  nuttcra  and  ii  a  good  atory  well  told  " 
MAS Y  TRACY'S  FORTUNE.    By  A»».  T.  S.DLtm.    "Spri^tly,  intereHinf 


and  well  written.' 
BOB-O'LINK.     By   Mast  T.   WAccAMAir. 

lighted  with  Bob-o'Link." 
THREE  GIRLS  AND  ESPECIALLY  ONE. 

is  an  exquisite  chsrm  in  the  telling." 
WRONGFULLY  ACCUSED.     By  W.  Hkichen.acb. 

taioingly  told." 
THE  CANARY  BIRD.     By  Camom   Schm 

will  be  enjoyed  by  boya  and  girls." 
FIVE  O'CLOCK  STORIES.    By  S.  H.  C.  J.    "The  chfldreo  who  are  blMaad 

with  iuch  atoriea  bave  much  to  be  thankful  for  " 
JWENILE  ROUND  TABLE.    Sicoirn  Siiixs.    A  collection  of  twenty 

bjf  tfae.foremoit  writers,  with  many  full-r>age  Ulustrations. 


"Every  boy  and  girl   will  U  dc* 

By  Mabioh  a.  Tagoabt.    "Therf 

"A  aimple  tale,  enttr- 

"The  story  is  a  fine  one   and 


20  Copyrighted  Stories  for  the  Young 

By  the  Best  Catholic  Writers 

SPBOiAb  Nbx  Priob,  SIO.OO 

»i.oo  down,  »i.oo  a  ironth 

nnd  spUutioii  of  our  ClicuUtiif  Ubrtrj  pUi,  on  prmdisi  pam 


Juvenile  Library  D 


'*'^S,2L"n^S  oWi-aLXlS""*"-  ""  "^  "  •'™  •">■  '- 
'"V^S:^-  A^'LlTiS  ^°«'-  *  «">'  '->'^°«  ••>'•  '"■' 
""kL".'u¥i-  .„%J5"K  SdJ^'f^^r --.if "'"°'"'  ■'°'' ""  "■"*"> 

THE  DOLLAR  HUNT.     From  the  Frtnch  by  E.  G.  MAiTiit      Tboi«  oho  .id. 
to  pt  .  todiuKiw  Ulc  should  read  thli  wiry  "•     '°°"  "">  "»■ 

■■T»r^."^  Sum.     There  is  much  truth  in  this  imiple  little  itotV. 

Vl,.  »„Sh  ^'  .?t  'i  J-.^^'J'^,'!'',."^  lovsble  I  little  fellow  as  thei«  b  In 
iij  J3  tf-.?  J^V  0"  Piekle.  the  "ranir.uffn,"  the  def eidSr  of  i«r. 
aecuted  kittens  and  persona!  principles.  "eienoer  or  per- 

*  ^E5,"W  ?T,  WOODVILLE      B,  A»»»  T.  S.PLII..     This  i.  a  beautiful 
^atioJi  ■1™P«1'J'   Wl'   •■?<!   delicately   eapretaive   of   the  .iS.!?. 

"^'S^"*"'     "'  "*"  ■^^  *«"*""■■     •"■»  !•  «  "Klin,  viod  ator,  for 

™"re?SrU°SSu,ty«'i„'^in'i  fiS^ff'^a,  ^  '°'-«'°'  "«  "« 

^rlu^^eJK  oa-^!i^r^^^S.';-po4?t,-?„='';?lai5'J.,^  S-a^S- 


X,^  CatholicCiiculanng  library  E,^ 


ANeoBook 
Eveiy  Month 


NOVELS 


SPBOIAk   PlUOM.    •18.00 

e.  and  !»▼•  tlM  we  of  them  wblto 


Ym  IM  tbt  books 


>Md  •splHHidDa  of  oar  Qrcnlttint  l&nry  pUn  on  Int  pifi 


Library  of  Novels  No.  1 

THE  RUtER  OP  THK  KINGDOM.     Bj  G»*ci  K*o».     '*Wm  than  m* 

reader.'* 

KIND  HEARTS  AND  CORONETS.     By  J.  Ha«»i«oii.     "A  real,  tree  Ufe 

hiMor7r  the  kitwl  one  could  live  through  and  never  read  it  (or  romaoee." 

IN  THE  DAYS  OF  KING  HAL.    By  Mauom  A.  Taooabt.    Illurtratcd.    "A 

talt  of  the  time  of  Hemr  V.  of  Enfland,  full  of  adventure  and  axcite- 

meat." 

HKARTS  OF  GOLD.     By  I.  Ephoi.    "It  li  a  tale  that  win  leave  ha  reader 

the  better  for  knowing  lU  heroine,  her  tenderncH  and  her  heart  of  gold." 

THE  HEIRESS  OF  CRONENSTEIN.    By  Couktim  HahmHabh.    "An  •» 

quiaJte  atory  of  life  and  love,  told  in  touchingly  aimple  words." 
THE  Pn..KINGTON  HEIR.    By  Anna  T.  SAOuaa.    "Skill  and  atrength  ar* 
abown   in   this   atory-     The   plot   ia  well    conatructcd    and    the   charactcra 
vividly  differentiated." 
THE  OTHER  MISS  LISLE.    A  Catholk  novel  of  Sooth  African  Ufe.     By 

M.  C.  Mabtim.    A  powerful  atory  by  a  writer  of  dininct  ability. 
IDOLS;  OR,  THE  SECRET  OF  THE  RUE  CHAUSSEE  D'ANTIN.     By 
Raodi.  om  NAvmy.    "The  atory  U  a  remarV-bly  clever  one;  it  U  wcU  coif 
atnicted  and  evinces  a  master  band." 
THE  SOGGARTH  AROON.    By  R«v.  Jour.  Guikar,  CC    A  eqtital  Irish 

story. 

THE  VOCATION  OF  EDWARD  CONWAY.    By  Mabkicb  F.  Eoa».    "This 

ia  a  novel  of  modern  American  life.    The  scene  b  laid  in  a  pleasant  colony 

of  cultivated  people  on  the  banks  of  the  Hudson,  not  fsr  from  West  Point" 

A  WOMAN  OF  FORTUNE.     By  Chbistiah   Rmd.     "Thst  great  American 

Catholk  novel   for   whkh  so  much  inquiry  is  made,   a  story  true  la  Its 

pkture  of  Americans  st  home  and  abroad." 

PASSING    SHADOWS.      By   Anthokt    Yoaxa.     "A    thoroughly 

story.      It    sparkles    from    ftrat    to    last    with    interesting    sitottioni 
dislogoes  that  are  full  of  nentiment.    There  ia  not  •  slew  paffc" 


tt  Copyrighted  Novels  by  the  Bett  Authoct 

8r»oxA»  Kbv  Pkics,  918.00 

ti.00  down^  91.00  a  month 

t  of  our  Clmilatlac  Ubnn  pUn  on  ftnl  Mfk 


Library  of  Novels  No.  II 

FHE  SEmOK  LIEUTENANTS  WAGER.  wmI  OUwr  SutIm.    Iu  ttorin  bf 
M  of  tb*  forcwMt  Cubolle  writen. 

A  DAUGHTER  0(  KINGS.    By  Kathuiih  Tthaii  Rinbmr.    •*TU  book  k 

«oM  •njojrablt.* 
THE  WAY  THAT  tEP  BEYOND.     By  J.  Hauimn.    "The  Morr  doM  not 

dnc  the  plot  it  w«U  worked  oat,  and  the  Internt  cndurn  to  tht  very 

iMt  put." 
JORINNE'S  VOW.    Br  ICur  T.  Wmmavan.    With  19  full-pu*  niaatrmtioni. 

"Tbert  li  fcnuiiw  trtiitk  merit  In  its  plot  and  life-ttorr.     It  b  full  ot 

vitality  and  action." 
HE  FATAL  BEACON.     By  F.  r.  Hbacsh.     'Tbo  ttory  ia  told  w«U  and 

cle*riy,  and  hat  a  certain  charm  that  will  be  found  interettiac.     The  prin- 
cipal cbaractert  are  alniplc  good-hearted  people,  and  the  heroine**  high 

■ante  of  courage  Impreaaea  itself  upon  the  reader  aa  the  tale  proceeJa." 
FHE  HONK'S  PARDON:  An  Historical  Romance  of  the  Tine  of  Philip  A' 

of  Spain.     By  RaoVL  n  NaVIBY.     *'A  story  full  of  stirring  incidents  and 

written  in  a  lively,  attractive  style." 
PERE  UONNIER'S  WARD.     By  Walth  Lkkt.    "The  characters  are  lif^ 

like  and  there  la  a  pathoa  in  the  checkered  life  of  the  heroine.     Per* 

llonnier  ia  a  nemory  that  will  linger. " 
TRUE  STORY  OF  MASTER  GERAF^.    By  Amiia  T.  Sadliib.    "One  of  the 

moat  tfiorou^ly  original  and  delii^tfnl  romances  ever  evolved  from  the 

pen  of  a  Catholic  writer." 
rHE  UNRAVEUNG  OK  A  TANGLE.    By  HAaioM  A.  Taooait.    With  fonr 

full-page  illustrations.     "This  story  tells  of  the   adventures  of   a  young 

American  girl,  who.  In  order  to  get  possession  of  a  fortune  left  her  by  an 

uDclc,  whoa  ihc  had  never  aeen«  goes  to  France." 
THAT  MAN'S  DAUGHTER.     By  HnriT  U.  Rose.     "A  weH-toId  atory  of 

AmerictP  life,  the  aceoe  laid  in  Boston.  New  York  and  California.     It  it 

very  iitterettinf." 
PABIOLA'S   SISTER.     (A  companion  volume  to  Cardinal  WIscman'i  *Ta- 

biola.")     Adapted  by  A.  C.  Cunxs.    "A  book  to  read— a  worthy  a«iitel 

to  that  mattcrpiacc.  'FaUola.' " 
THE  OITTLAW  OP  CAMAKGUE:  A  Nord.    By  A.  n  Luiom,    "A  c 

mfni  Witt  vStntj  of  go  In  it." 


It  CopTTighted  Novell  by  the  Best  Authon 

SrBoxJLft  Nbt  Prigs.  •la.OO 

$1.00  down,  Si.00  a  month 

BMd  «3qilan«tk)n  of  oar  ClrculiUac  Ubnrj  pUa  on  Cnt  pufk 


Library  of  Novels  No.  Ill 


07  GiACB  Xaoii.    "Btrend  doabt  Um  bMt  Ctthelk 


•KOT  A  JUDGMENT.- 
twvd  of  the  ycsr.** 

fBE  RED  INN  OF  ST.  LYPHAR.  Br  Ahh*  T.  Suuta.  **A  Morr  ol 
■tlrring  tlmci  In  Frincc,  when  the  ■turdj  Vmikatu  roM  in  dcfmot  of 
country  uid  religion." 

HIB  FATHER'S  DAUGHTER.  By  KxTBAtiNB  Tynan  Rinkmm.  "So 
dramatic  and  ao  iotenaely  intereiting  that  tbe  reader  will  And  it  difletUt 
to  tear  himaelf  awaj  from  the  atory." 


Holt.    "One*  hia  book  becomet  known  H  wn 
By   Roaa  Uolhouahi).     Mr.   Gladatone  called  thli 


OUT  OF  BONDAGE.     By  H. 
be  read  bjr  a  great  many.' 

UARCELLA   GRACE, 
novel  a  maatwfitct, 

rHE  CIRCUS-RIDER'S  DAUGHTER.  By  F.  v.  BaACsn.  Thia  wotk  bag 
aeblercd  a  remarkable  ancceaa  for  a  Catholic  novel,  for  in  leta  than  a  year 
three  cditiona  were  printed. 

CARROLL  DARE.  Bj  Kasi  T.  Waooamah.  Illuatrated.  "A  thrilling  itory. 
with  tbe  dash  of  horaea  aad  the  claah  of  aworda  on  every  aide." 

DION  AND  THE  SIBYLS.  By  Mius  Kxoif.  "Dion  !■  aa  brilliantly,  «■ 
accurately  and  aa  elegantly  clMilcal,  aa  acholarty  in  style  and  diction,  aa 
faaclnating  In  plot  and  aa  vivlJ  in  action  as  Ben  Hur." 

HER  BLIND  FOLLY.  By  H.  M.  Rom.  A  cle>er  story  with  an  Interesting 
and  well-managed  plot  and  mu.7  striking  situations, 

MISS  ERIN.  By  M.  E.  FaANCia.  "A  captivating  tale  of  Irish  life,  redolent 
^'  ...iiuine  Celtic  wit,  love  and  p&thos." 

MR.  BILLY  BUTTONS.  By  Walteb  Lkckt.  "The  figures  who  move  In 
rugged  grandeur  through  these  pages  are  as  freih  and  unspoiled  in  their 
way  aa  the  good  folk  of  Drumtochty." 

CONNOR  D'ARCY*S  STRUGGLES.  By  tfaa.  W.  M.  BDrnoLna.  "A  atiry 
of  which  the  ^lirit  ii  ao  fine  and  tbe  Catholic  charactera  ao  nobly  coo 


Continuation  Ldbiraify 


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